God, I love a man who can banter.
“Dammit.” I sigh. “I mean, you did give an excellent performance.”
“I was hoping you’d be willing to break it to your mother for me.”
“As long as you’re willing to hug her while she ugly cries.”
“Deal.” He makes his way across the kitchen, stopping next to my collection of beer and wine on the counter. “Is The Bachelorette viewing party a liquid-only event?”
“There’s sandwiches and popcorn in the living room.” I hold up Nana Rosie’s basket and pull back the lid. “And Nana Rosie’s special lettuce.”
Martin peers into the basket and pulls out a bud, then lets it drop back in. “I’ve got so many questions.”
“Penny!” Phoebe shouts. “Booze! Now!”
“Well, they’ll have to wait.” I close the lid and move the basket back to where I found it. “Right now, we have a party to attend.”
“Lead the way.”
Chapter 12
“The group dates are my favorite,” Martin says in between bites of pizza.
Somewhere after the third or fourth episode, we ordered a round of emergency pizzas, and I’m glad we did, because as invested as everyone is in Kaitlyn’s journey to find true love, we might end up pulling an all-nighter.
“If you ask me, I think the group dates are a complete waste of Kaitlyn’s time,” says Phoebe. “Half of these douches are just here for their fifteen minutes of fame, and she’s having to carry them around like deadweight. This show would be so much better with lesbians.”
“Hear! Hear!” Falon and I raise our drinks.
“I’m a fan of the group dates myself,” Nana Rosie chimes in. “Back in my day, women were always throwing themselves at men. I like watching the tables turn.”
“Shhh!” my mother hisses. “I’m going to turn on the subtitles if everyone can’t pipe down, and you know how much I hate reading TV.”
“Understood.” Martin raises his hands in mock surrender before turning toward me from his spot on the floor. He motions for me to lean in from my perch on the recliner. “When are we going to ask your grandmother where she grows her pot?”
“Well, we could do it now,” I whisper. “But then you’d have to sleep with one eye open tonight. She’s nearly a hundred and isn’t afraid of doing hard time.”
“She’s going to kill me over a question?”
“No. She’d probably just maim you a little for being nosy.”
“Thanks for the warning, Banks.”
He returns his attention to the TV, but this time rests his back against the recliner, positioning himself so that if I moved my leg even just a hair, we’d be touching. I like this level of closeness. The kiss earlier was a mistake, albeit an enjoyable mistake. It was my inner teen acting out because of what happened with my father over drinks. It was my way of distracting myself from my feelings instead of sitting with them like I’ve learned to do. I really do become the worst version of myself when I’m back home, and I don’t want Martin to get caught in the crosshairs of the old me. I want him to get to know me as I am now.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Phoebe: You two look cozy.
I glance in my sister’s direction. Both she and Falon have eyes on me like a mother chaperoning a school dance.
Falon: Very cozy.
This is the first time the three of us have ever been in a group chat together. I kind of feel like I’ve just been invited to sit at the cool kids’ table. Naturally, I have to overcompensate.
Penny: Do you know Nana Rosie has a basket full of weed buds in the kitchen?
Phoebe nearly spits out her wine.
“Everything OK, Phoebe?” Mom asks.
“Went down the wrong pipe,” Phoebe says.
Phoebe: Bullshit.
Falon: She told me she grows rare plants in that little greenhouse in the backyard.
Falon: I had no idea that’s what she meant.
Penny: Go look if you don’t believe me.
Falon: I think they’re technically called nugs.
Penny: Noted.
Phoebe excuses herself from the living room with minimal disruption, and I wait with bated breath for her reaction to Nana Rosie’s latest gardening endeavors. She shuffles back moments later with her jaw practically hanging to the floor. She grabs the remote from the coffee table and pauses the show.
“Why are we pausing?” Nana Rosie asks. “That man was about to disrobe. Give me that clicker.”