She giggles at myMary Poppinsreference. That was her favorite movie growing up. “Good one. Everything is fine.” She snorts in obvious annoyance. “You should see what my mom wore to my softball game the other day. It was ridiculous. She wore a tight Versace dress, Jimmy Choo shoes, and held a Gucci purse while sitting on a dirty metal bleacher next to the bearded lady who’s doing her best to keep K-Mart in business.”
I burst out laughing. “Holy shit, that’s so damn funny. You painted an excellent picture. I can imagine it perfectly. She used to do the same thing at my high school football games. And she was only, like, twenty-five then. Everyone assumed she was my sister.”
“Yeah, I bet that sucked big time. You probably hated her back then.”
I don’t really like to Ashleigh-bash in front of Jagger. No matter what, she’s still Jagger’s mom. If my sister wants to complain, I’m happy to give her an ear, but I usually steer clear of fueling the flames.
“Nah. It wasn’t so bad,” I lie. “She made Dad the town hero. It could have been worse. He could have married that K-Mart-loving bearded lady. Then my sister wouldn’t be as stunning as she is.”
“You flatter me, D. Speaking of stunning women, I saw on TV that you were at the crazy basketball game last night. You ran on the court to pull people off Kennedy Jeffries, and you were wearing her jersey. Do you know her?”
“I do. She’s a…friend. I was sitting with Coach Jeffries. She’s his daughter.”
“Hmm,” she says skeptically. “A gorgeous female friend whose jersey you were wearing. Who you ran out to defend on the court. Sounds like more than a friend to me, D.”
I suddenly wish she had gotten her mother’s brains instead of our father’s. I try to play it off. “She’s a cool chick. We hang out sometimes. Our friends are all friends.”
“Pft. What a load of crap. Anyhoo, did Dad talk to you about us coming up for a visit in a few weeks?”
I smile at that bit of news. “No. When?”
“When I get out of school next month. I want to tour some of the colleges in Philly.”
“Hell yes. Stay as long as you want. I’d love to have you. BJ could use some female companionship, and you’re the only female she likes. The only one she doesn’t try to kill.”
She giggles. “Still? What happens when you bring women home?”
“I don’t bring any home. She attacked an Amazon deliverywoman a few months ago.” Though that was worth it because after I cleaned her injuries, she gave me an amazing blowjob on my back deck. I choose not to share that with my sister.
“Oh man. Poor woman.”
Poor woman? I gave her three orgasms after the blowie. I’m sure she, too, agrees a few scrapes from BJ were worth it.
“Yep. Poor woman.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to Dad, and we’ll figure out a few days for him to take off work. I’ll text you the dates.”
“Can’t wait.”
TWENTY
KENNEDY
“Sometimes I feel like Bruce Banner becoming The Incredible Hulk, and I’m powerless to stop the transformation once it starts. Does that make sense?” I ask the therapist who was assigned to me for the past two weeks.
We’re sitting on perpendicular hunter-green velvet sofas in what can best be described as a cozy library, complete with shelves of books and an always roaring fireplace. I initially questioned her about the necessity of a fire in the summer, but she said it creates a relaxing atmosphere. Maybe she’s right, because I got comfortable talking to her much more quickly than I would have anticipated. It's like staring into the crackling fire opened the floodgates, and it all came pouring out of me.
She smiles. “It does make sense, and while it’s not ideal, it’s good that you recognize it. Tell me the things that enrage you.”
“Nouns enrage me.”
“Nouns?” she questions with confusion written all over her face.
I can’t help but crack a smile. “People, places, and things.”
“Kennedy…” she warns. She’s gotten used to my sass.
I sigh. “Fine. Assholes enrage me. Obviously.”
