“I heard the men in New York are all gay,” Miss Wanda said.
“The men are fine.” Jeez. “New York is fine. I’m just not looking for a relationship right now.”
Beth kneeled out of the line of fire, blotting the rug.
“By the time your mother was your age, she had the three of you and another one on the way,” Phee said.
“If you mean Amy,” I said, “I’m pretty sure she was a mistake.”
Aunt Phee’s mouth quirked before she pressed her lips into a thin coral line.
Amy narrowed her eyes at me, silently promising retribution. I grinned.
Meg, flushed and pretty with Daisy in her arms, came between us. “Hello, Aunt Phee.”
Aunt Phee presented her other cheek for my sister’s kiss. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, either, missy. This one needs a little sister to play with.”
“She has a brother,” Meg said.
“Go, Meg,” I said. “No gender typing here.”
“Meg and John have plenty of time to think about expanding their family,” Mom said. “DJ is still in diapers.”
Daisy wriggled down to toddle after the cat.
“How old is he now, three?” Miss Wanda said.
“Two and a half,” Meg said.
“Old enough to be toilet trained,” Aunt Phee said.
I rolled my eyes. John turned up the volume on the television. The front door opened, admitting a blast of cold air and our tall, lean, aristocratic-looking father.Finally.
“Girls. Abby,” he greeted us. He stooped to kiss my mother. “I brought some guests home from the center. You remember Captain David Lewis.”
Who?
“Of course. I’m so glad you could join us for dinner, Captain,” Mom said, sounding like an officer’s wife.
“Dave, ma’am. Appreciate you having us.”
They started coming through the door behind him, four men I’d never seen before, young ones with beards, old ones with service caps, all of them wearing some kind of camo. Vets? Homeless? Homeless vets?
Polly yapped. I scooped her up before someone stepped on her, and she sank her little needle teeth into my wrist.
“Ouch. Your dog bit me,” I said, handing her to Aunt Phee.
“She’s not used to so many people,” Aunt Phee said.
“Neither is Jo,” Amy said. “But you don’t see her biting anybody.”
“Give me time,” I said.
“Welcome,” Mom said. “You’re all very welcome.”
The thanks and introductions went on. The house filled. Cars and trucks littered the driveway. Aunt Phee retreated to a corner with Wanda Crocker, feeding her dog from the platter of shrimp. Daisy had pinned Weasley in a corner and was sticking her chubby fingers into the cat’s ears.
“Gentle,” Meg warned. To which of them, I wasn’t sure.
