“Sammy,” Kevin’s voice said, and I looked over at where he and Victoria came back over to the two of us—she looked a little more relaxed, and then tightened again when she saw me.Thatdidn’t seem like it was about her family. I wanted to cry. Kevin hugged Sam and gave him a quick kiss before he turned to me with a lopsided smile, offering the same exploratory hug I’d offered Sam, and I hugged him. “Hey, Bridget,” he said. “Glad to see you showed up for the sting operation.”
“Oh, yeah, sting operations are nothing new for me,” I laughed. “I’m well-versed in espionage tactics. I’m secretly an instigator for hostile foreign agents.”
Victoria looked even more pointedly away. She was getting sick of my bullshit. I didn’t know why now. I’d been on the same bullshit from the moment she’d gotten here.
Sam nudged Kevin’s side. “Apparently she didn’t know about the sting operation.”
“What—nobody told you?” Kevin said, and I scratched the back of my head.
“Yeah, no, uh… I mean, everyone’s had a lot going on. And it’s a weird situation.”
Kevin gave Victoria a pointed look. Victoria didn’t meet it. At length, he turned back to me and said, “Well, it’ll be fine. Just go in as friends like everything’s normal. Sam and I will handle the talking.”
“You know, it’s not my family,” I said, “but it doesn’t seem like the most sensible route.”
Kevin gave me a grimace-smile. “You’d think. But no. If I told her over the phone that Victoria doesn’t have a girlfriend but that I have a boyfriend, she’d have an aneurysm. We have to get her to a place where she can’t outwardly react and we’re all together doing something. Then she’ll keep the worst of it contained, and by the time she’s able to yell, she’ll have moved into the brooding phase anyway.”
I scrunched up my face. “This just sounds like you’ve normalized an extreme amount of emotional labor to manage the volatile emotions of somebody who doesn’t know how to regulate them herself.”
Kevin shrugged. “She’s family.”
“Someone knows her stuff,” Sam said.
“Oh, my, uh, one of my best friends has a psych degree.”
“Well, let’s get inside,” Kevin said, standing up taller. “I’m freezing and I could go for some tacos.”
“Tacos?” I said, frowning, as Kevin took Sam’s hand and led him towards the front door. Victoria finally deigned to speak to me with a sigh.
“My family’s… holiday tradition. Passed down from my grandmother to my mother. My grandmother was the one who made it up, but we like to pretend it goes back further than that. Holiday tacos. Turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes and gravy, in a taco shell.”
“That sounds genuinely disgusting.”
She looked away, her voice low and awkward. “I’m sorry I… didn’t tell you. I only found out it was a thing yesterday, and I’m still reeling too.”
“Oh.” I let my shoulders fall. Maybe that was part of why she was so awkward around me. “I was upset thinking you knew the whole time. I totally cannot blame you if you only just found out too. I thought you had a whole thing about not dating much? What’s with, uh, suddenly assuming you’re bringing a… a girlfriend around? Are you even…?” I trailed off awkwardly. There was no good way to ask if Victoria was gay, not when I desperately wanted her to be for all the wrong reasons.
“I am completely single,” she said, not answering the question even though I’m positive she knew what I meant. “And if I did suddenly have a girlfriend, I wouldn’t bring her around to meet my family without even telling them anything first.”
“Okay, that’s sensible. Communication isn’t exactly clear and straightforward in your family, huh?”
She smiled thinly. “You could say that.”
“Vicky, Bridge,” Sam called from the front stoop. “You coming?”
“I’m sorry,” Victoria said, walking ahead of me. “In advance. For the way my family acts.”
Chapter 9
Bridget
Miranda Jameson was a severe and stoic-looking woman with Victoria’s height, dark hair and wrinkles that made it clear she got them from frowning more than she did from smiling, and she put on a token smile for me and Victoria, and I could tell she was sizing me up as the unworthy evil gay girlfriend of her daughter who probably had some very unserious and untrustworthy job.
“You must be Bridget,” she said, with all the warmth and delight you might summon to welcome a giant sentient cockroach into your house. To her credit, I think she tried to be nice. Not to her credit, I think she needed to try harder.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Jameson,” I said. “Your house is beautiful. Thank you for having me over.”
She arched an eyebrow. I probably didn’t do a good enough job of putting on a serious face. “You’re too kind,” she said aftera pause. “I suppose Victoria is talking to you for a reason, after all.”
