Why did I name my son that? I like to think that pregnancy had impaired my brain.
“How do you like our little slice of paradise?” Doc interjects.
“God, you sound like a cult leader,” Lucy tells him. “How old is this handsome little guy?” She asks.
“He’s ten months old,” I tell her, “and I like it very much,” I say as I turn to Doc.
“My boys are eight and eleven, they’re with their dad this week. And as much as I hated it when people told me this, enjoy this stage. Before you know it, their feet start stinking,” Lucy says ruefully.
“My feet don’t stink, Aunt Lucy,” Isabella protests, and her parents laugh.
Before we can continue our conversation, I hear someone call out my name, and I turn, surprised. I see Uncle waving at me as he walks up to us.
“How are you, old friend?” He asks DJ jokingly. “Is Lucy here bothering you?”
I glance at Hawk and find that he’s already looking at me. I look away.
“Have you met everyone yet?” Uncle asks me.
“Not yet,” I say, and Hawk adds, “We’re making the rounds now.”
“Well, don’t let me stop you. I’m happy you’re here, Marissa. You’re a great addition to the club.”
“Thank you,” I say shyly.
Lucy whistles. “Straight from the VP’s mouth. No joke.”
I like her.
As we continue our little tour, I remember what Hawk told me of the club’s history.
“Uncle and Squid met each other in the Navy, and founded the club in 1998, after Squid got together with Bev. Those two originally met because their spouses were having an affair with each other, and reconnected a few years later.”
After having my mind blown by that particular bit of gossip, I inquire, “And how did Doc and Red join?”
“Uncle met Red in Nar-Anon, a support group for family members of addicts. She attended meetings because her husband at the time, Doc, was an addict, and Uncle grew up with a Quaalude mom, so…” Hawk explains quietly.
Squid is introducing me to Tank, a hulking man whose road name fits him perfectly, when I hear someone squeal, “Rissy!”
Hawk puts his palms on his ears. “Good Lord. You should come with a warning: May cause hearing loss. You saw her a few hours ago.”
Mushroom smiles like she got the best compliment. “Do you mind if I steal Marissa for a moment? I want to introduce her to some people our age, no offense,” she turns to Prez for that last part, and he laughs.
Hawk looks at me for confirmation that it’s okay, and I nod before she leads (or rather, drags) me away.
“Listen up, people,” she announces to the group, “this is our newest member, Marissa, and her son, DJ.”
“Nice to meet you all,” I say shyly.
People smile or wave. Shiner’s one of them, and he nods at me encouragingly.
“These are Subhi and Jameela,” Shroomie says as she points to a couple. “And this,” she points to the ground where a toddler is sitting and playing with a plastic bottle, “is their son Qasim.”
The man is only a bit taller than me, and the woman, who’s wearing a headscarf, is Mushroom’s height.
“Subhi works in the cybersecurity division of Blue Security, and Jameela is working on her degree in biochemical engineering.”
“The little guy kind of slowed that down for a while,” Jameela says apologetically as she shakes my hand.
