“Oh boy,” Paul said. “Sandy, I have something to tell you. I probably should have told you this a long time ago.”
“What is it?” I asked, suddenly nervous. “Are you dying? That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you have a weird-shaped head. You consumed your brothers in the womb and now they’re tumors in your brain.”
“Weird-shaped head!” Paul snapped. “I don’t have a weird-shaped head!”
“Sure felt like it when it was coming out of me,” Matty said. “Sherry, would you like to try some green bean casserole? I made it. With green beans. And love.”
“I’m allergic to green beans,” Sherry said apologetically.
“Really?” Matty asked.
“No,” Sherry said. “But no one else wants to eat it, so I think it must be for a reason.”
“Do I make bad green bean casserole?” she wondered aloud. “That just doesn’t seem possible.”
“I’m not wearing white at the wedding,” Paul said.
“Why not?” I asked. “It’s beautiful and pristine and goes with everything—”
“Because I’m not a virgin.”
“I didn’t do it,” Vince said earnestly.
“I know you’re not a virgin,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Tommy De Milo absolutely destroyed your virginity when you were sixteen—”
Larry, Matty, and Nana frowned at him.
“—eighteen,” I corrected. “Eighteen and perfectly legal and everyone was sober.”
“Who is Tommy De Milo?” Vince asked with scowl.
“No one you have to worry about,” Paul said. “And thanks for that, Sandy. Because that’s exactly what my parents need to hear.”
“I bet I’m bigger than he is,” Vince said.
“Can we not talk about size at the dinner table?” Paul hissed.
“I meant my arms.”
“Oh. Right. Uh. That’s what I meant too. Your arms. Nothing else.” He looked shifty-eyed. He totally wasn’t talking about Vince’s arms. Which I did have a mild curiosity about, especially since I’d blown Vince in my dream.
“Fine,” I muttered. “No white, and we’ll have the small wedding at a horse farm. Crush all my dreams, why don’t you.”
“Oh, no worries, boy,” Charlie said. “You can have the big white extravagant wedding of your dreams when Darren here makes an honest man out of you.”
Darren and I slunk lower in our seats.
“Knowing Darren,” Sherry said, “he’ll want everyone to dress up like Thundercats. He got pretend married when he was seven and all his Thundercat toys were in attendance to wish the happy couple a prosperous life together.”
“Who was he marrying?” Nana asked.
It was clear by the look on his face that Darren wished he was anywhere but where he was.
“Leonardo,” Sherry said.
“Da Vinci?” Corey asked.
“Da Ninja Turtle,” Sherry said.