“Need a fire extinguisher?” I asked my sister, who glared at me.
Mom breezed into the room on a cloud of perfume and hairspray. She kissed my cheek and put a beer in my hand. “Lena’s cooking stir fry tonight, so sit down at the table and stay out of the way.”
“Lena’s cooking? Is that safe?” I asked, inwardly cringing. My sister wasn’t renowned for her cooking prowess.
“I heard that, asshole,” Lena said.
“Don’t be rude, Adam. Now go and sit down, drink your beer.” She steered me toward the chair closest to the window. She leaned down and spoke quietly so my sister couldn’t hear. “We’re going to pretend that this is the best food we’ve ever eaten, okay?”
“Fine, but if we all get food poisoning, I’ll be the first to say I told you so,” I whispered, glad the sizzle of the wok drowned out our conversation.
“Lena, you need to turn back the gas a bit. You’ll burn the vegetables,” Dad instructed, looking nervous at the smoke coming off the food.
“I cooked this dish in my culinary class last week; I know what I’m doing,” Lena retorted.
“Culinary class?” I asked.
“Lena’s been taking cooking classes for months now,” Mom informed me.
“Way to pay attention, doofus.” Lena stuck out her tongue.
“Children, children, be civil,” Dad deadpanned.
“I’m glad to see you’ve taken the giant stick out of your ass—I mean butt. Sorry Mom,” Lena apologized.
“Why does your brother have a stick in his bum?” Mom asked, getting cutlery out of the drawer to set the table.
“I suspect it’s Meg Galloway related,” Lena answered before I could tell her to shut up.
I drank some of my beer, wishing I could throttle my nosy sister.
“Now why would Meg put a stick up Adam’s bum?” Mom asked, and Lena and I both snorted.
“Because I’ve been seeing her for the last month.” I figured it was best to come out and admit it. Otherwise, Lena would do it for me. Considering most of the town was seemingly aware of our relationship.
Dad whooped and pumped a fist into the air. “I knew it!” He held out his palm to my mother. “You owe me fifty bucks, Marion.”
“Fine,” my mother snapped, opening her purse and pulling out a fifty-dollar bill and shoving it into my dad’s outstretched hand.
“Wait a minute. Did the two of you wage a bet about Meg and me?” I asked.
Dad tucked the money into his pocket. “I told your mother I thought there was something going on between the two of you. Leslie Blankenship said she saw you together at the movie theater last month.”
Oh shit.
“I didn’t see Leslie.” My voice was pitched a little too high. Lena raised an eyebrow, but I wouldn’t look at her.
“She saw the two of you in the lobby. She was taking her grandson to see a movie and said the two you looked awfully close,” Dad remarked smugly.
Phew. The last thing I needed was for the whole town to hear about our tryst in the middle of the movie theater.
“And I said that if you and Meg were dating, then you would, of course, have said something to your mother.” Mom narrowed her eyes at me, and I felt ten years old again.
“And I said that sometimes young people like to keep things to themselves instead of announcing it to the world,” Dad piped up.
“I’m not the rest of the world, Tom. I’m his mother. And if he is spending time romantically with someone who is like a daughter to me, I would have thought he’d at least tell us—”
“It wasn’t romantic, Mom. At least not in the beginning,” I broke in, interrupting her tirade.
Mom put her hand on her hip. “Then what was it?”
Crap. I walked right into that one. I was pretty sure I looked like a deer in headlights.
“It was just sex, Mom. They weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, ”Lena answered gleefully, obviously enjoying my discomfort. “They were boinking buddies,”
Mom gasped. “What an awful thing to say, Lena. Meg isn’t that kind of girl. And our Adam wouldn’t be so crass.”Mom was such a prude.
“Marion, things are different these days. There’s nothing wrong with having a purely sexual relationship. It’s not like we waited until marriage.” Dad winked at my mom, and I wanted to crawl under the table.
Lena was laughing her ass off, the little traitor.
“Can we stop talking about this?” I groaned, wondering if I’d get away with running out the door and not stopping until I was miles away.
“No, we cannot. I’ve just learned my boy was dating, sorry, boinking, my best friend’s daughter, and it seems I was the last to know,” Mom huffed. Fucking hell, my mother just used the term ‘boinking.’ I had officially entered an alternate reality.
“We didn’t tell anyone, Mom.” Why was I having to assure my mother about my secret relationship? Damn Lena to hell.