“I don’t know how you stand it,” May says, spearing a potato with her fork. “Not knowing where you’ll end up after the draft. What if you hate your city?”
March shrugs. “The fuck-load of money they pay me will ease my pain.”
“Language,” Margo murmurs half-heartedly. That’s one difference between her and my mother. Mom is theater folk. Cussing is an art form as far as she’s concerned.
March gives his mother an innocent smile.
June shakes her head. “I swear, I should have been born a boy. These twaddle heads are all going to be loaded just for tossing balls around all day.”
August makes a noise of amusement. Up until now, he’s been fairly quiet; something I’m far more used to from him. “But we’ll be limping around like old men by the time we’re forty.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she grumps, waving an idle hand. “And you can cry yourself to sleep on a two-thousand-dollar eiderdown pillow.”
“There’s pillows that cost that much?” March asks, intrigued. “Why? And what must that feel like?”
“It better make me weep with joy.” August reaches for his wine. “Or sleep like the dead.”
“You do that anyway.”
“Tell you what,” May says. “You crack open that fat wallet, Augie, and buy me one. I’ll give a full report.”
“Or I could buy myself one and make my own report.”
“That’s no good. You fall asleep anywhere. Which means your pillow choice won’t factor. No, no, what you need is a fussy sleeper. I’ll be your huckleberry.”
August gives her a dry side-eye.
“You know,” Margo says, leaning back to survey us. “It justoccurred to me that you and August live in the same city now, Penny.”
I jolt, glancing at August then away. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
Liar, liar.
I remember the exact moment I learned he’d been drafted to LA. And exactly how I felt.
I feel his gaze. Heat prickles come back to torment my skin.
“You should have looked her up by now, August,” Margo goes on, in that motherly way, which is apparently oblivious to any embarrassment she might be bestowing on others.
August clears his throat. “I’ve only been in town for a little while.”
Translation:Get off my case, Mom.
“Well, you’re settled in now.” She helps herself to more carrots. “You two should go out some time when you get back.”
Kill me now.
Unfortunately, in my attempt to look anywhere other than at August, I catch March’s eyes. His glint with quiet humor, fully aware of how awkward his mother is making things and even a bit sympathetic to my plight.
“Ma,” he says, grabbing her attention. “I’ve been meaning to ask. What the hell is up with that sweater you sent me?”
Margo’s expression becomes all innocence. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the knitted toy soldiers draped around the shoulders?”
May perks up. “You got one of those too? Mine has teddy bears!”
June and August join in. Apparently, they’ve all received “absolutely darling”—Margo’s words—sweaters.
