“I put mosquito netting down. You can get it in bulk,” I suggest to Patrick, uncorking the wine.
“Karma will get them back.” Lauren sniffles. “If you believe in yourself, you will be rewarded by the universe. I have met the most wonderful, loving man...”
“Did you and Mr. Karmic Universe wash my sheets, Lauren?” Mandy demands.
“You need to make sure you buy the undyed kind,” I add, while Patrick takes an absent sip of his drink.
“I’m on a live video, Mandy. Stop going on about your stupid sheets.”
“Let’s see a picture of the lucky guy,” their grandmother urges.
“As if I’m going to tell you all who it is.” Lauren clutches her phone. “So Amy can steal him? No, thanks.”
“I’m not stealing him. I have a real man.”
In the corner, Kenny is wiping at the ranch dressing that’s globbed onto his chinos.
“Hey, Dad, are you going to sleep with Mandy?” Isabella calls. “And score a three-for-three with the Miller sisters?”
My head snaps up. “The fuck he is.”
There’s dead silence in the room.
Isabella’s mouth drops open. “There’s that touch-her-and-die energy we love.”
“I am so sorry.” Mandy hurries over to me. “Kenny has Isabella this weekend. He does every other weekend. I’ll get her to leave you alone. Isabella, don’t you want to take some video of Pepper?”
“Where’s my Pepperoni?” the teenager squeals, scooping up the dog and holding her for the camera, cooing.
I can’t help but notice that Kenny’s attention isn’t on his ex or his pregnant girlfriend. It’s on mine.
“Thanks, Mandy,” Kenny says to her too cheerfully, holding up a beer.
“Excuse me, Kenny.” Mandy brushes by him. “Mom, the timer is going off. I’m going to check on the meat loaf.”
“It’s good meat loaf. Dinner’s at two,” her dad tells me.
Kenny wanders to the coffee table, where the snacks are arranged. He’s eating vegetable chips, dipping them in ranch dressing, still watching Mandy through the kitchen door.
I stare at him. Suddenly, I know with absolute certainty that it’s him. Kenny is the stalker—he has to be. That’s why she didn’t want to go to the dinner.
Mandy’s in the kitchen alone, taking off oven mitts.
I grab her, shake her. “Admit the truth. It’s him, isn’t it?”
She hits me with her oven mitt. “Can you leave it alone?”
“Kenny. Kenny’s the stalker.”
“No, it’s not Kenny.” She makes a disgusted noise. “Kenny is an idiot. He slept with both of my sisters.”
“From the way he’s looking at you, I think he’s angling for a third.”
A laugh escapes her mouth. “Wait, you’re serious. No. No way.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“Oh my god, you’re not jealous, are you?”
