“What’s that, you little whore?” Aunt Brenda says behind us.
Emma jumps. Delaney jumps and gasps and her face morphs into a tomato.
I slowly turn to frown at Aunt Brenda.
She’s technically Chandler’s great-aunt, but she’s really the entire town’s cranky old aunt.
And she has about ten seconds to take back the name before Ugly Theo enters the conversation. “Hey, Auntie No-No. Insulting my date? Tsk, tsk, Auntie No-No. So rude. What would your mother think?”
Laney makes a strangled noise.
The old bag of crankiness peers at me. “What wouldyourmother think?”
“Of you tossing out insults to my sister and her wedding guests?”
“Ofyou.”
I grin and wink at her, even though she’s on my shit list. “She’d probably be glad I went for someone my own age instead of succumbing to all the flirting you’ve done with me over the years.”
Laney makes another noise, but this one’s definitely more amused.
Emma slides between us. “You’re sitting with my parents and my cousin and some of your nieces and nephews, Aunt Brenda. You remember my cousin Sandor? He loves hearing how many bra-burners you arrested back in the day.”
Sandor, the poor dude with horrible timing, flashes Emma a horrified look as he stops behind Aunt Brenda.
“Immodest hippies,” Aunt Brenda grumbles.
Laney flinches.
And I get a flashback to her cannonball and the results of it at the pool.
It was a minus five on a ten-point scale as far as cannonballs go.
And I’m trying very, very hard to remember that instead of letting my mind speculate on the show I missed under the water when her top came off and how much I’d love to sneak her down to the pool late tonight to help her with her form.
“Ah, and here’s Sandor now.” Emma smiles at him. “He’s inbanking. You should ask him if he’s ever seen any fraud.”
Aunt Brenda is still eyeing me. “She’s too good for you, and you know it.”
“Who?” I ask.
“This woman you claim is your date.”
“Didn’t you just call her a very unflattering name?”
“Whores are too good for you.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t have fun until she figures that out for herself.” I wink at her again. “Name-callers go to hell, Auntie No-No.”
She points at me and looks at Emma. “I want to sit with him. He needs someone to keep him on his best behavior.”
Emma gives me The Look.
It’s basically the only look that isn’t Emma being a perpetually optimistic, believe-the-best-of-everyone ray of sunshine.
Too bad, really. There’s little I love more than pushing Auntie No-No until she cracks.
In irritation or laughter, I generally don’t care. If Aunt Brenda wants to be miserable her whole life, that’s her business. Can’t fix that kind of determination.
