On the other hand, I’m feeling ambivalent about Randy’s recent string of goals. The team has won the last two away games, thanks to his superior skills. As good as that is, it’s not so good for my position when I return to the ice. I’ll be at tomorrow’s home game, even though it means warming the bench and watching Ballistic get all my ice time.

Skye and Sidney are the first to arrive, and Skye freaks out about my mom’s hair. It’s weird to see two grown women get that excited about anything, let alone hair, but the attention seems to make my mom happy.

Sid gives me a light back pat while Violet hugs her mom and they talk about how awesome my mom’s hair is.

I’m nervous about our moms being together today, because it’s unlikely they’ll be able to stop themselves from asking Violet about the wedding. She may have mentioned it of her own accord this morning, but I don’t want anyone to push it. Not if I’m finally making headway.

I’ve already asked my mom not to bring it up, because we’ve got enough going on, but that doesn’t mean Skye won’t say something.

“I brought some things!” Skye sets a bag of groceries on the counter. It’s not actually a bag of groceries. It’s orange juice and several bottles of champagne.

“Mimosas!” my mom says, clapping excitedly.

I’m not so sure Skye is the best influence on my mother. Skye likes to drink, and she can hold her liquor. My mom, on the other hand, tries to keep up but gets sloppy a lot faster. This should be an interesting meal.

Violet chops up a pineapple while her mom gets out champagne glasses and starts mixing drinks. Violet almost chops off one of my dad’s fingers because he can’t seem to wait until she puts the fruit on the plate.

“Robbie! Be careful! You need those fingers,” my mom admonishes.

Skye whispers something in my mom’s ear, and the two of them giggle like teenage girls.

Violet rolls her eyes and keeps chopping. She stabs a chunk with a toothpick and reaches across the island. Instead of taking it, I bite it off the toothpick.

“Looks like the Waters men are interested in getting some action later. You should get on that, too, Sidney.” Skye winks at him.

“Mom, please.”

“What?” Skye takes a sip of her drink, testing it out. “Too much orange juice.”

“Can we please have one family get-together without me needing therapy afterward?” Violet mutters.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Mom...”

“Well, you know what they say about pineapple,” Skye whispers.

My mom cocks her head to the side and twirls her hair around her finger.

Violet speaks before Skye can. “Seriously. Please do not tell Daisy that pineapple makes jizz taste better. It doesn’t. That’s a lie some man made up so that women will willingly swallow a load of splooge.”

Sidney slaps the counter. “I think we should go sit down in the living room and let the girls do their thing.”

My dad grabs the fruit tray and follows him. Violet shoots me a look that tells me she’s not going to be all that excited if I leave, but I shrug and push away from the island. There’s no way I’m staying for a conversation about the taste of jizz.

13

Conversations We

Should Never Have

VIOLET

Alex backs out of the kitchen, leaving me to deal with my mom and Daisy and conversations about pineapple-flavored jizz, as there’s no one else here yet to act as a buffer. After all my efforts and sweating this morning, I’m less than impressed with Alex’s choice to escape. Thankfully Charlene and Darren show up shortly thereafter.

They stop in the kitchen to say hello, but Darren soon disappears into the living room with the rest of the men. On the way out he spears a piece of pineapple from the cutting board and shoves it into his mouth. My mom and Daisy start giggling again, of course. The two of them have already polished off half a pitcher of mimosas. I haven’t even touched mine. If I’m going to set a wedding date today—or at least commit to setting one—I’m damn well going to be sober. That way no one can talk me into doing something I don’t want to. Like having it televised.

“Charlene, maybe you can help us out,” my mom announces. “Violet thinks pineapple doesn’t change the taste of…” She gestures to her crotch meaningfully. “But Daisy and I disagree.”

“You don’t have to answer that,” I jump in. “In fact, it’s probably better if you don’t encourage these two.” I narrow my eyes at the moms.

My mom tsks me. “Since when have you become such a prude, Violet?”

“Prude? Seriously? Are there no boundaries here? Since when is it appropriate to talk about the flavor of jizz with my mom and my fiancé’s mother?”

“I think it’s a perfectly normal discussion. Don’t you, Daisy?” My mom looks to Alex’s mom for confirmation.

“I think it’s great that you and Violet have such an open relationship, Skye,” Charlene says with an evil smile. “I wish I could talk to my mom about this kind of stuff, but she’s kind of reserved.”

I kick Charlene, so she pinches my side. Her mom isn’t reserved at all.

My mom puts her hand on Charlene’s shoulder. “You know you can always talk to me about these kinds of things, sweetie. I had a lot of fun before I settled down with Sidney, if you know what I mean.”

“Robbie’s the only man I’ve ever been with.” Daisy’s doing that twirling thing again with her hair.