“What do you think he means by ‘add them to his collection’?” I gulp. “Like he’s going to take a photo? Or maybe it’s a metaphor?”
“No, I think that he is literally, not metaphorically, going to cut your tits off, stuff them with newspaper, and mount them on his wall. Can we please call the police?”
“You girls are a black mark on this family,” Gran hollers from thehallway.
Panicking, I crumple up the note and stuff it between the cushions right as the doors to the bedroom burst open. When I had this house redone, it had seemed romantic to have tall, narrow French doors leading to my bedroom. Now I just want a thick metal door with a padlock. Ugly and grandma-proof.
“You all went out with rich men, and not a single one of you stayed the night with a cock wrapped in a hundred-dollar bill. Gran is having conniptions. It’s like you’re not even trying.”
“Frances!” My mom hurries in after her. “They’re good girls. Of course they aren’t staying at strange men’s houses.”
“I thought you wanted grandchildren. Whose side are you on? They’re almost forty—they’re not teenagers anymore. Cut the apron strings.” Gran turns on us. “Your mom’s such a helicopter parent. You didn’t get enough practice dating in your twenties. Now here we are—we’re going to have to take drastic measures.”
“I’m too old to be out drinking all night. I’ve done it more in a week than I have in the last five years.” I groan. “And I like sleeping in my own bed. Well, my own house, at least.”
The couch lurches as Fidget tries to extricate her cone from under the seat. She bangs into the coffee table then jumps up on the bed to collapse with a sigh next to my sister.
“You’re setting a bad example for Kathy,” my mom chides as she starts picking up the clothes on the floor.
“You’re setting a bad example for us all.” Gran shakes her head.
My phone dings.
“That better be a man,” Gran warns.
“Oh, is it Nick?”
“Who is Nick, Mom?”
“It’s the checkout boy. I gave him your phone number and told him that you’re on the older side but you’re still looking for love and to give you a call.”
“Mom, no! You can’t just give my number out to random strangers.”
“I’m just trying to help, sweetie.”
“Help is not needed.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Anyways, it is a man, but it’s another online date for Kathy. Plan C.”
“Hell no.” Gran slaps the phone out of my hand. “None of this online bullshit. Your generation just wants to do everything on your phone. You’re not going to get laid on your phone. You girls want boyfriends?”
“No, I just want Kathy to have a—”
“We’re doing it the old-fashioned way,” she steamrolls over me. “Tried-and-true.”
“We are tooold to be shopping at this store.”
“My pastry addiction is too out of control to be shopping here.”
Kathy’s right at home. The slinky scraps of shiny fabric were made for her body type.
“Who wears these types of dresses?” I grump. “Mine has a hole in it. Poor construction.”
“I think that’s how it’s supposed to be?” Carolina whispers to me as we browse the racks of trendy clothes at the Nasty Gal boutique.
“I don’t even think they make my size.”
