The Bodyguard Affair

Scarlett froze. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Not literally, of course. What kind of madwoman do you take me for?”

“Do you really want us to answer that?” Parker said.

Her mother ignored her. “I simply spoke to Adrian, and he generously agreed to donate his sperm to you so I can finally have some damned grandbabies!”

Scarlett’s groan echoed out over the city.

“You’re not getting any younger, Scarlett,” her mother howled. “You’re in your forties now. Why aren’t you pregnant yet?”

“Because I’m gay, Mom!”

“I thought she was bi?” Sam said.

“When it comes to ‘where’s the baby?’ we’re all gay,” Bianca explained. “It’s our only defense.”

“There is no defense these days.” Sam slowly removed both herself and Bianca from the center of the fray. “My own mother isn’t any better. I haven’t told you, but she’s been dropping hints that we should adopt a kid.”

“Would you bring any kid into this family right now?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“I’m with you there.” Parker kicked back in her seat, savoring her glass of wine. “I’m just glad Mom doesn’t expect us to have children. Can you imagine it? Me raising a kid? It would be a disaster.”

“You haven’t heard her comments toward me,” Julia said. “She says I have ‘good birthing hips.’”

Parker tipped her glass toward her girlfriend. “To be fair, you do have great hips.”

Julia rolled her eyes. “Just promise me that when we get married, it’ll be on the beach. With… six people, maximum.”

“Sounds amazing,” Parker said. “Let’s elope this weekend.”

Their mother swiveled toward Parker, somehow hearing her comment over her own shrieking. “Don’t you dare joke about that, Parker Nichole Black.”

At the end of the table, their father, the bastion of calm in the center of his wife’s ongoing storms, spoke. “The apple walnut salad is delightful tonight. Have you tried it, dear?”

Vivianne looked in his direction. “I… no.”

He took a bite from his plate. “It’s just like the one they served at our wedding. I think the chef may have stolen the recipe from your mother.”

Vivianne fanned herself with her scarf before taking a bite of her husband’s salad. “Ooh. That is good. I should have ordered that instead of the clam chowder. Isn’t it a bit warm tonight for chowder?”

All three of Vivianne’s daughters exchanged confused glances as everyone sat back down in their seats. Their significant others, however? When it came to these chaotic family dinners, they had long stopped asking questions and simply went with the flow.

“By the way,” Bianca risked saying, “I have some more good news for everyone. Sam and I are moving back to Seattle!”

“That’s wonderful,” her mother gushed. “And it’s about damn time. Southern California has been terrible for your skin.” She patted Bianca on the arm. “Are you using that moisturizer I mailed you? You need to look after yourself, Bianca. Just because you’re married doesn’t mean you can let yourself go…”

Bianca stifled a sigh as her mother continued to fuss over her. Some things hadn’t changed. And they probably never would.

The main course came and went, along with another few bottles of wine. Despite the mayhem of the evening, Bianca was enjoying herself. The food. The company. The lively conversation.

In fact, everyone was so deep in conversation that no one other than Bianca noticed Isabel and Scarlett speaking quietly to each other at the other side of the table.

“Were you going to ask me to marry you?” Isabel said.

Scarlett glanced around furtively. “Er, I…”