Meredith is still smiling as she brings the package to the counter and puts it down next to the phone.
“Yeah, it just arrived along with some friends.” I start to tear the tape off the box, but the loud ripping sound doesn’t drown out my mother’s excitement.
“I’m so glad you made friends. Is the handsome, blonde rich guy there? Calvin?”
“Jesus, Ma. You are on speaker and Kevin is blushing.”
“Don’t worry, Ms. Harrison. You aren’t the first mom to notice my good looks,” he tells her, and Devon nods her confirmation.
“Who else is there, J.J.? That pretty little thing you’ve been volunteering with?”
Oh lord. Really, Mom? I can feel Devon’s eyes on my face as I keep my laser focus on lifting the flaps of the box. There’s an insane amount of packing peanuts inside. I’m elbow deep in them by the time I can think of how to answer my mother’s embarrassing question, but Devon beats me to it.
“I’m guessing that’s me—Devon. How are you, Ms. Harrison?” None of the snark and sass is in her tone that I’m accustomed to receiving. I imagine this is the polite voice she uses with her students’ parents.
“Oh yes! Devon. I’ve heard a lot about you, honey. You’re a schoolteacher like my Jenny!”
Devon smiles like she always does when she talks about her students. “I am. How’s Jenny’s year going?”
“Oh wonderful, honey. She loves her class this year.”
“Mom, what is this?” I cut in. I’ve found a box labeled Almond Moo in the swooshing abyss of foam.
“It’s an Almond Moo, honey!” She says honey like it could be substituted with dipshit.
What the eff is an Almond Moo? I hand it across the counter to Devon and she lifts the lid and takes out the pitcher-like object.
“I’ve seen these before on a telecommercial!” Devon tells her in an excited voice.
“What does it do?” Kevin asks from over my shoulder.
I want to tell them all to stop asking questions—to stop humoring this absurdly kind but misguided woman, but my mother is answering him before I can open my mouth to speak.
“It milks your nuts, dear.”
Meredith’s jaw drops to her navel. Kevin presses his lips together to hide his smile. And even Devon lets out a small burst of a giggle. But it’s Meredith I keep my eye on, her dark pupils are gleaming as her mind pokes and prods at every avenue she could take.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Harrison. Could you repeat that?” she asks, a slow smirk spreading as she stares right at me.
“I said it milks—your—nuts.” My mother articulates every consonant in a way that makes Meredith’s eyes widen with joy.
“Ma, don’t?—”
“So, Ms. Harrison,” Mer cuts in, “if Kevin borrows the Almond Moo, will it milk his nuts, too?”
“Don’t answer that, Ma.”
“Is that, Meredith? The scary one?” she asks. “Of course, it will, dear. Just make sure Calvin cleans it after J.J. uses it just in case. You don’t want to mix nut milk. It’ll ruin the flavor.”
Meredith nods as if this isn’t the first time she’s heard this bit of advice. I pick up the phone and press the speaker button before she can ask my mother for any more pearls of wisdom on milking nuts.
“Thanks for the gift, Mom. Can I call you tomorrow?” I ask, shaking my head as I walk away from my friends’ belly laughs.
“Of course, honey. Tell your girl to have a great school year.”
She’s not my girl. I look at Devon who is looking at the bottom of my brand-new nut milker.
“I’ll tell her you said that. Can you have Jen call me?”
