“That isn’t true!”
“Yeah, it is. I don’t think you realize what kind of effect you have on people.”
“I do not,” she grumped. “Have an effect.”
“Yeah, you do. Lily worships you, and even Nikki was hanging on every word you said.”
“I can’t help it if I’m friendly. You should try it sometime, Mr. Sourpuss.”
“I’m friendly,” I said. “I just don’t have your personality. You’re… enchanting, especially when you’ve had a few drinks.” I chuckled again and put my arm around her. “It’s cute. You’re cute.”
“Thank you,” she said, a tad ungraciously.
I grinned and continued, “Let’s get home. I’ll fix you a snack before bed.”
“You know me so well.”
I shot her a sideways grin. “And then you need to unwind.”
“How’d you know?”
“I know you, remember? Tonight you’re going to ride me.” I leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Then I’m going to hold you down and shoot you full of semen.”
“Yes, please.”
“That’s the benefit of taking the pill,” I added. “No more danger week.”
“I changed my mind,” she said. “I don’t need a snack after all.”
* * *
We spent Saturday afternoon in the casting studio, mixing buckets of pink mold goop. The statues themselves weren’t all that large, but the boxes around them were. So we mixed and poured, mixed and poured, until the goop reached the top of the first one. Then we pounded the sides with mallets and pieces of scrap lumber. Christy climbed atop the box and watched the pour hole until bubbles stopped appearing.
We repeated the process two more times, and then Siobhan appeared as if summoned by magic. She peered into the molds, checked the bracing on the boxes, and generally approved of everything.
She talked to Christy a few minutes longer, while the rest of us cleaned up and tried to remove flecks of dried goop from our skin, hair, and clothes. The stuff was everywhere.
“I miss Wren,” Christy said after Siobhan had gone. “I could really use a good home-cooked meal about now.”
“Yeah, she can cook,” Nikki said. “But dinner’s no problem. Hey, Paul, you wanna be a good boss?”
“So I’m the boss now?”
“If you’re payin’.”
“Sure.”
She grabbed a piece of scrap paper and tugged a pencil from her pocket. “My friend delivers pizza. I’ll call him. What do you want?”
Zoah spoke up first, “No meat for me, please.”
“A vegetarian,” Nikki muttered so only I could hear. “Why’m I not surprised?”
“Christy doesn’t eat beef or pork,” I said.
“Oh. In that case, one large veggie.”
“Better make it two.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Little B can pack it away. What about you? Can you finish a whole pizza?”
“By myself? Maybe.”
“All right. Two large veggies, two large specials.” She wrote it down. “You want beer?”
“They deliver beer?” I said in surprise.
“No, but my friend’ll stop and get some if I ask.”
“Sure,” I said. “A six-pack of whatever.”
She glanced at Christy and Lily. “Two six-packs…”
“Right.”
She raised her voice, “Hey, Z-man. You drink?”
“What? Alcohol? Goddess, no.”
“Again, why’m I not surprised?” Nikki muttered. Then her head snapped up. “Did he just say ‘Goddess’?”
“Sounded like it,” I said.
“I’m glad you’re normal.”
“As normal as you are.”
We shared a grin.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll call this in.”
I paid for everything when it arrived and made sure to give the delivery guy a good tip. He was Nikki’s friend, a fellow punk, but he’d also gone out of his way for us.
“Thanks, man,” he said. Then he kissed Nikki’s cheek. “You’re my girl.”
I watched him go and then looked at her. “Are you and he…?”
“Get bent,” she said, friendly but dismissive. “Why? What’s it to you?”
“Well, I thought you were… um…”
She arched her pierced eyebrow.
“You know…” I glanced at Christy and Lily.
Nikki snorted a laugh. “Just because I don’t like you doesn’t make me a lesbian.”
“Fair enough,” I agreed.
“Besides,” she added, “I object to the male-dominated patriarchy and its attempts to label my sexuality.”
“Ha! I knew I liked you for a reason.”
“Are you for real?”
“Yeah, totally.”
“But you’re an agent of the patriarchy.”
“Get bent.”
“Too late,” she said. “Let’s eat.”
* * *
Christy met Lily the next morning and went to church, and I took the opportunity to call home.
My mom answered sleepily, “Hello?”
“Happy Mother’s Day!”
“Thank you. What time is it?”
“Almost ten. Why? Were you asleep?”
“Aren’t I entitled to sleep in? It’s Mother’s Day.”
“Yeah, sorry. Want me to call back later?”
“No, I’m awake now.” She yawned and asked, “How’re you? How’s Christy?”
“We’re good. She’s…” I told her about Christy’s project and then my own.
“I’m proud of you, honey,” she said. “And I’m glad you called.”
“Oh? Why?”
“So I can RSVP for Christy’s graduation. She sent us an invitation. That was very nice of her. Also, to remind you about Erin’s graduation. She sent you an invitation…”
“Oh, crap! That’s right. Sorry. Was I supposed to RSVP?”
“No. We expect you anyway.”
“Um… remind me when it is.”
“The twenty-fifth.”
I counted forward. “That’s a Friday. We have class. It’s the end of the quarter, Mom.”
“She’s your sister, Paul.”
“But it’s only a high school graduation.”
“Which happens once. In a lifetime. Besides, she came to yours.”
“Yeah, all right,” I said. “We’ll be there.”
“We’re taking her to dinner with Leah and her family.”
“And you’d like Christy and me to be there as well?”
“It’d be nice,” she said.
“Can we spend the night?”
“Of course. You know you don’t have to ask. And it’s Memorial Day weekend. We’re planning a cookout with the Coulters.”
“One of those cookouts?” I asked.
“What do you mean, ‘those cookouts’?”
“You know what I mean, Mom. The kind where everyone gets naked and has sex.”
“Of course,” she laughed, although she must have heard something in my voice. “Why? Christy’s okay with it, isn’t she? I thought— I mean, Susan said…”
“I don’t think she’s ready,” I said. “Not for that.” I didn’t want to hurt Mom’s feelings, but I didn’t think Christy would ever be ready for a swinging party with their group. Besides, she hadn’t even tried swinging with another guy, much less a whole crowd of them.
“Okay,” Mom said, although she sounded disappointed. “I just thought I’d ask.”
“Thanks. We appreciate it, but we’re still taking things slow.”
“That’s fine.”
“Um… that does bring up another question. Will Gina be there?”
“At the graduation? Of course. Why?”
“Well, she and Christy haven’t met. I want them to like each other, but…”
“Oh, honey,” she said with a laugh. “This is straight out of Jane Austen.”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Your love triangle.”
“It isn’t a love triangle.”
“It isn’t? With Gina as Wickham and Christy as Darcy.”
“Mom, I love you, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Then you won’t mind if I call you Elizabeth?”
“Coulter?”
“Bennet.”
“Gotta go, Mom. Tell Erin we’ll be there. Love you, bye!”
She was still laughing when I hung up.