"I don't think that's accurate," my sister said.
"It won't hurt to try," Mom replied. "Enough with the scowling, Linden, and Ash, stop making that face. People will think you have an ulcer."
"I might," he murmured.
"You don't," Mom said with a definitive shake of her head. "Zelda, dear, you are just glowing. Is there anything you'd like to tell me? A very special anniversary gift perhaps?"
"Mom. What the fuck?" Ash snapped.
Zelda glanced at him as she ran a hand down her belly. "I look pregnant?"
He rubbed his temples. "No, love, you don't."
"I think it's just the new shimmery highlighting stick," Zelda said to Mom, gesturing to her cheekbones. "That's all. I promise."
"Well, I can't have all my dreams come true, can I?" Mom mused. "Oh, and Jasper. Aren't you a treasure tonight. My word." She hit me with an approving grin. "One of the best anniversary gifts of all."
At the reappearance of my mother's terrible Southern accent, I said, "Enough of that."
"All right, all right." She looked us over with a grim smile as if the six of us barely passed muster. She did this when we were small, before sending us off to school in the mornings. "Magnolia, dear, you also look beautiful but you'd look so much better if you smiled. Try that, would you? Just remember, carrying triplets is more difficult than twins." She glanced around our group, saying, "In you go. Mingle. Have fun."
My mother darted inside the ballroom, her sequined dress shining after her.
Magnolia said, "It's so wonderful when she's lost her mind. Like, it's entertaining in a mildly toxic way."
Ash shook his head. "Why is she so chippy?"
"Because throwing big events is so stressful," Jasper said. "It's so much coordination and there are always last minute problems. Even when we hired event planners, I still ended up managing something and eating nothing. You have to force yourself to stop working and let things happen." She sent a quick glance around the group. "I don't know, I'm just saying it's really difficult. Whenever I was steering the ship, I know I was terrible to the people working with me. Your mom probably expected the country club's event coordinator to handle everything and didn't hire an additional coordinator to make sure it all got done to her liking."
There was a collective moment of sheepishness before Magnolia said, "I'll stop grousing about being ninety-four months pregnant with these precious little mountain trolls and schmooze with the grown-ups if someone keeps my husband awake and away from the tequila."
"But that sounded like such a winning idea," Rob said.
"Never a good idea," Zelda said as she steered Magnolia and Jasper into the ballroom. "Never ever."
"No tequila, no complaining," Ash murmured. "Got it."
"Nothing we can't handle." I clapped Ash and Rob on the backs. "Isn't that right, children?"
* * *
I hated small talk—obviously—thoughI usually muddled through these types of parties by letting my sister do all the talking or pretending to be extremely interested in the random things other people had to say.
That was before Jasper.
I still hated small talk but now I had the kraken queen of bullshitting with the best of them on my arm and there was no overstating how much I loved watching Jasper work a crowd. And the girl did not stop. She plowed right through the cocktail hour, kept my siblings laughing their asses off through dinner, and now she was charming the hell out of everyone we encountered during the dessert and dancing portion of this evening.
Where I would've grunted my way through a painful conversation with our childhood neighbors and then escorted myself to the bar for a long talk with Johnnie Walker Blue, Jasper had these people telling a hilarious story about getting lost and running out of gas on their way to Canada during the oil crisis in the 1970s. There was a bit about wandering onto private property and getting picked up by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police somewhere past the Vermont border.
"And then they took the men into a separate room," Mrs. Freitas said, her gaze bewildered.
"What happened then?" Jasper asked Mr. Freitas, a shorter man with a shiny bald head.
"I won't say," he replied with a deep chuckle. "I've never talked about it and I won't start now."
"Secrets taken to the grave," Jasper said with a grin that was nothing short of contagious.
"I did not know what was going to happen," Mrs. Freitas continued. "I had no clue. I just kept asking to call my embargo—which is the wrong word, I know that now but I was nineteen and not smart and thought I was sayingembassy—and they kept telling me I couldn't do anything about the oil embargo."
