“His parties are gross,” JJ says. “We always have to eat food that looks like my sneeze ghosts.”
“Ah, things make much more sense.”
“You guys both look like you’re freaking out,” Creed says as Otter shuts the door behind him. He opens his mouth to speak again, but before he does, he covers AJ’s ears. Satisfied, he says, “Is it some weird sex thing? Did Mom and Dad walk in on you guys doing something super gay? Like decorating and rimming at the same time?”
Anna sighs. “I don’t think that’s a thing they do.”
“What?” Creed says. “Of course it is. It’s not that hard. Oh joy, this two-hundred-dollar throw pillow looks so good on the chaise lounge that I’m currently bent over while you lick my butthole. See? Even I can do it.” He frowns. “The impression, that is. I can’t actually decorate. And when we tried rimming, you—”
“This is probably not the time to discuss any of this,” Anna says, voice sticky sweet.
“Right,” Creed says. “I could totally use a beer.”
“It’s two thirty.”
“Hey, I took the day off today so we could be here. And tomorrow is Saturday. There has never been a more appropriate time for day drinking.”
We follow them into the kitchen.
JJ is shoving cookies into his face, a pile of raisins on the counter.
Jerry is doing the same thing.
Megan’s eating walnuts, not looking concerned that she’s been cornered by Alice, whose eyebrows are high on her forehead.
“Mom,” Creed says. “Dad. Spawn of my loins.” JJ waves at him. “And pregnant lady who I do not know.”
“Hi!” Megan says. “I’m Megan.”
Anna’s eyes widen a little before she turns to look at me and Otter. “Is she…? You didn’t—is that—”
Another thump comes from overhead.
The doorbell rings.
We all look at the ceiling.
“Mom dead,” I say, pulling Otter out of the kitchen. “Never-before-seen little sister.”
“What?” Creed and Anna yelp at the same time.
We hear JJ sneeze before he shouts, “Sneeze ghost! And you brought oatmeal. Dad, look.”
Stephanie and Ian Grant stand on the porch of the Green Monstrosity, carrying four bottles of wine.
“I love you both so much,” I tell them fervently. “Like, so hard. You don’t even know.”
“See?” Ian says to his wife. “That’s how you greet a guest. People these days don’t know how to have class anymore. We love you too, Bear.”
Stephanie eyes us both curiously. “Why are you both so sweaty? Is everything all right?”
“I don’t even know anymore,” Otter says honestly. “I’m convinced this is nothing but a fever dream.”
“You do look awfully pale,” Stephanie says, reaching up to feel Otter’s forehead. “Are you sure you’re not coming down with something?”
“Holy shit!” I hear Creed shout from somewhere behind us. “Dude, you look exactly like the Kid and Bear did when they were little. You’re like… you’re like a girl Bear and Ty.”
“Oh no,” I moan before I grab a bottle of wine out of Ian’s hand and turn back toward the kitchen.