Patsy turns to Hugo. “So, what about your family dear?”
Hugo pauses, then says, “May I turn up your radio?”
“Er, if you like?”
Some classical stuff drifts through the kitchen. It’s nice, but I don't know anything about this kind of stuff. The tune stops and the announcer speaks.
“That was the New York Philharmonic, performingVivaldi’s Spring from The Four Seasons and Concerto in A minor RV 356.Conducted by Byron Piper, with his wife, Elise Piper on first violin.”
“Meet my parents,” says Hugo. “Byron and Elise Piper.”
“Oh my goodness!”
Hugo very rarely talks about his parents, so I forget how famous they are in the classical music world. Harmony has stretched out her hand to Hugo. He grips it tightly.
“Your parents must be so proud of your musical success,” Sheila says.
Hugo gives a small snort. “That is not quite the case, unfortunately. They think I have taken all the music lessons and training they gave me over the years, and thrown it down the toilet. Into the mire of ‘popular music’. They hate it.”
“Parents can be very disappointing can’t they,” she says.
“Parents can be,” says Harmony. “But aunts are not!”
I have to agree with her. Her aunts rock.
“Yep,” I say. “Can you adopt us all as your nephews?”
Sheila laughs. “Well, make an honest woman of my niece, and you will all be our nephews-in-law.”
Harmony blushes, but my mind starts whirring. How do three men get to marry one woman? Reverse Mormon style.
I see Hugo and Lenny looking at me. I nod. We are all on the same page.
Patsy chimes in. “Have the wedding at Big Sur! Remember that beautiful trip we took a couple of years ago?”
“Aunt Patsy, I think you are getting a little ahead of yourself,” laughs Harmony.
“It doesn’t hurt to plan ahead! You said that it was the most perfect place ever.”
Sheila pats her wife on the hand. “First things first, dearest.”
Sheila has other things on her mind.
“So, if you three are courting my niece, what do you plan to do about that awful half-brother of hers?”
“Good question, Sheila.”
“Tell the tabloids you dumped me,” Harmony says. “I can disappear again.”
“Harmony! Don’t even think about it,” scolds Sheila. We all nod our heads in agreement.
“I mean, I could just make ‘Harmony' disappear,” our baby clarifies. “I could change my name. We could stay together, but I would just never go out in public with you.”
“That is not a solution,” I tell her. “Remember how clever you were with Brookes' book? Now it’s our turn to figure out your problem.”
“Seems to me, you just need the world to see what a psychopathic liar Screech is,” says Patsy.
And she is one hundred percent correct.
