Brooke:I'll figure something out. Don't worry about it.
JJ:I wasn't worried.
Brooke:You're never worried.
JJ:That is untrue.
Brooke:You never worry about things that matter.
JJ:Yeah. Imaginative dinner party gifts for your best friend are the things that really matter.
* * *
Brooke:Exactly what kind of Meet the Parents shit are you trying to pull?
Annette:I haven't a clue what you mean.
Brooke:You have many clues.
Annette:Listen. There was a small bedroom accident this morning and I nailed my head on the footboard. I have a terrible headache and an obnoxious goose egg that customers won't stop asking about. I'm going to skip our slow-walk-to-the-conclusion routine and give you some real talk.
Brooke:How…did you hit your head on the footboard?
Annette:It was a reverse cowgirl accident.
Brooke:Paint the picture, honey. Talk me through this.
Annette:Okay, so I'm on his dick and things are fine until I reach down and start playing with his balls and…other points of interest in that vicinity. Things got a little rowdy and I lost my balance and flew head first at the footboard post.
Brooke:The bronco bucked you off?
Annette:Pretty much.
Brooke:You know, I am not having that kind of sex. I think I'm okay with that.
Annette:Since we've cleared that up, I'd like to remind you that you fight back against things, all the time. It's your way of insisting the people in your world prove how much we really love you. We have to get past many levels of you pushing us away in order to prove we actually want to be with you. Because you'd rather reject people than be rejected. So, yes, we're having this dinner party, and yes, you are attending. Because Jackson and I love you so much, we'll go find you and drag you to the event if you don't come willingly.
Brooke:This makes me sound incredibly high-maintenance.
Annette:Humans are high maintenance. Some are better at putting those requirements out there than others.
Brooke:This is scary for me.
Annette:I know. It will be all right. I would never put you in a situation where it wouldn't be all right.
Brooke:I don't deserve you.
Annette:You do. You deserve many good things.
Brooke:At this dinner party…can I ask Jackson whether he's going to outfit you in pro football gear before taking you to bed again?
Annette:He feels awful about this.
Brooke:Great, I'll capitalize on that.
* * *
After spendingthe entire afternoon in small, cluttered boutiques all along the seacoast that offered everything from scented candles to quilted tote bags to wind chimes, I'd found a gift and completed the inevitable transition into my mother. There was no other way to explain the cellophane-wrapped basket that required both arms to carry.
