I barely resist hollering Antonio’s name, because I’m still kind of curious about how he went from pet project to geriatric fuckboy. Also, whether he returned to going by Tony, or if he’s sticking with Antonio?
“Fine, on this point, I’ll concede,” Sophia says with a toss of her head, and my ears ring from all the overlapping conversations. “I regret a few marriages, but I never regret a divorce.”
Our boisterous laughter drowns out everything else.
But one by one, their gazes return to me, and foreboding prickles my skin.
“Mia could do it.” Sophia’s lenses reflect my shell-shocked expression, yet my mouth remains hanging open. “You should, too. Do it all while you’ve got youth on your side.”
Do what? I don’t dare ask for clarification because I’m afraid of the answer. With the last few swigs of that margarita catching up with me, I’m also not connecting thoughts as quickly or correctly.
Sophia’s smile widens, the bronzer on her cheeks luminescent. “Rita could teach you one of those sensual dance routines—”
“I know!”Rita taps her lip, really selling the act that this is coming to them on the spot. “And we can get Dr. Vasquez to perform it with her.”
“That might be a lot to ask up front,” Grandma Helen says from my other side, slightly exaggerated and stilted, like she’s reading from cue cards. “Perhaps we have her go flirt with the doctor and see where that leads.”
“Yeah, and she can go bungee jumping for me by proxy!” Wanda slams an open palm on the table, making the items atop it rattle and several of us startle, leading me to believe she’s veering off book. “Record it on one of those fancy body cams and describe it to me in excruciating detail.”
“Brilliant idea.” Grandma Helen meets my eyes, and frankly, I’d rather be in trouble than tussle with the mischievous gleam within the green and amber brown. “We’re all pushing eighty or have toppled on over, and Mia’s too afraid to put herself out there.”
Ouch, although not exactly untrue.
“You have no sense of work/life balance, hon. You work or think about working all day every day, no time for rest or romance or fun.” Wanda scoots closer, halfway onto the seat of my chair with me, her heavily mascaraed lashes snagging in her bangs as she grimaces and adds, “We have a more active social life at our age than you do at twenty-two.”
Since I’m too stubborn to admit they might have a point, I cross my arms tightly and say, “Twenty-six.”
Vonetta harrumphs. “Basically fetal.”
“…fresh from the womb,” Gertie finishes a similar sentiment.
“What we’re thinking is,” Wanda says, glancing at Grandma Helen—the duo’s been in my life since forever, platonic soulmates who navigate the world like an old married couple. “We’ll take over your social calendar.”
“And set you up on dates.” Rita’s rapid clapping sounds next to my ear. “There are so many eligible grandsons and nephews to pull from.”
Wait. What’s happening?
Or more accurately, what am I slamming the brakes on? It’d be super great to know that much at least.
The grannies are pinning their hopes and dreams on me, I can at least see that in the misguided lightbulbs blinking above their heads.
Which means it’s time to bring out Mia the Buzzkill, bearer of hard truths and destroyer of moods. No little girl dreams of becoming anal retentive when she grows up, but here I am anyway.
In my experience, people didn’t shoot the messenger, they resented her.
“Yeah, none of that’s happening. While it’s lovely to see everyone and catch up,” I say, adopting a more serious tone, “this whole life intervention is getting pointed right back at you. After all,I’mnot the one going around, not wearing protection and spreading venereal diseases.”
Well, now I finally have their attention…
And their collective ire.
Chapter Six
I’m hoping it’s not a bad omen that my first week at Lakeview has officially both startedandended with regret. For instance, I regret that I didn’t handle my conversation with my grandmothers about their regrets better.
That they got offended, and we argued about it, and it’s made the entire week harder.
Today’s regret came in the form of standing onstage in front of an audience of senior citizens, wearing a hot-pink T-shirt emblazoned with the phrase “Ask me about my STD.”
