The Twilight Zone?
Shook my head.
Psychedelic drugs?
Then I peered through the door again.
“Oh, stop fussing, Conor,” Ma groused, proving where I’d gained my surveillance skills.
Totally inherited.
But, yeah. No tripping, no Rod Serling—just my woman, my mother, my sister-in-law,andmy cousin.
Fucking knitting.
“I’m not fussing!” I shook my head again as I took in the scene. Somehow, the fact that Jenniferdidn’thave a pair of knitting needles made the most sense to me. “I’ve seen Star making?—”
“Conor! Shut your trap! It’s a secret,” she yelled at me, her eyes promising a not-so-fun time as she shot me ocular daggers.
I held up my hands and quickly pivoted from “homemade explosives” to, “Making her Secret Santa gift and now you’re all knitting?!”
“We’re crocheting, actually,” Savannah retorted, frowning at the very holey piece of fabric she discarded on her knee.
As for Star, the holes seemed uniform, but the way she held the hook in her hand reminded me of a goddamn weapon.
Jen leafed through one of Kat’sTeen Voguesand shot me a desultory wave when she realized she’d caught my eye.
“What’s happening here?” I asked her because she was the only one unarmed.
Star never willingly spent time with Ma, so this whole thing felt like I’d fallen down a black hole and had been spat out in Narnia after vacationing in Wonderland via a detour to Whoville.
“Lena is teaching them how to crochet, and I’m learning about the devolution of the Supreme Court.”
“See, that’s where my confusion stems from. You can already crochet, Star.”
“I can, but Savannah can’t, and I wasn’t frickin’ teaching her. She’s a whiner.”
“Hey!”
“Now, dear, it’s fine,” Ma chirped. “Everyone whines now and then. Aidan used to do it all the time when he and Brennan were small. My little whiner.”
Savannah smirked at her fond tone. “I think I’ll call him that later.”
“Now, Brennan was my stoic one. Always scowling. Conor was a bit of a crybaby?—”
“Ma!”
“What? It’s true. He was on the breast for three years?—”
“Ma, for fuck’s sake!”
Star halted the craft of ‘stabbing wool into knots.’ “So, that’s where the fascination started, huh?”
“Do not ruin breasts for me,” I protested.
“That’s where all men’s fascination with tits starts,” Jen derided, with a distinctive turn of the page in her magazine. “This isn’t new information.”
“It is for me!” Star jeered, but I saw the gleam in her eyes and knew I’d never hear the end of my ma’s loose goddamn lips.
