Page 36 of Under the Influence

“Our family has a love curse,” Clover says, ignoring Tuesday’s challenge. “Your family has this other thing.”

“Earlhams bond for life,” Tuesday says, and I nod. “It all started with Zeb and Coretta.”

“That’s the weird old man from the engagement party, right?” Clover asks while Lola grins.

“Yes, our Earlham bloodline is full of passion and insanity. Lola’s kids will be the same way.”

Clover insists, “Or they’ll be like the McGraw family.”

“Seems unlikely.”

Before Tuesday and Clover can start throwing tortilla chips at each other, Lola asks, “Aren’t your great-grandparents divorced?”

“Yes, but their bond remains powerful. Allow me to share their love story, so you can understand how you’ll never break free of the magic.”

Clover shakes her head. “I think we’re fine—”

“A hundred years ago,” Tuesday interrupts, winning a frown from Clover and Lola, “Zeb Earlham was a sexy young fella with more hair on his head than in his ears. He was about six inches taller, and his dick was apparently massive like a tree trunk. That last part was confirmed by OG Meemaw Coretta.”

“Why do you call them meemaw and peepaw?” Clover asks Tuesday.

“It started as a joke,” I explain, playing the reasonable one to Tuesday’s over-the-top nutball role. “Our mothers thought the whole redneck thing would be funny and leaned into it after they moved back to West Virginia. By the time we were born, the goofy hee-haw shit had already stuck.”

Clover and Lola nod while Tuesday revs up her story again.

“It was during the fair when Zeb first saw Coretta. Legend has it, she was the sluttiest yet technically still a virgin in all the land. Zeb was immediately impressed by her reputation. After all, he was a man who loved himself a well-performed blowjob.”

“I feel like I’m too young to hear this,” Roxie says.

“No, no, it’s time you were taught the birds and the bees,” Tuesday insists and pats Roxie’s hand. “And what better way to learn than through imagining two currently crusty old fools rubbing together until they orgasm?”

The waitress is stuck a few feet from our table. I see the woman willing herself to move forward, yet she’s clearly afraid to get sucked into our conversation.

After we put in our drink and wing order, Tuesday continues sharing her story.

“Zeb knew Coretta had other suitors, so he laid on the charm thick. He won her a pink unicorn from the strongman game. He bought her soda and cotton candy. She was reportedly quite the tease, using a hot dog to act out her sexual skills.”

“Wait, this is the old blind woman, right?” Alexis asks. “The one who claimed she only had sex once and that was the time Christine was conceived.”

“Yeah, Coretta lies a lot,” Tuesday explains.

“Like you,” I point out to Tuesday.

“No, not like me. My sex lies are fun. Hers are gross.”

“Explain the difference,” I insist.

“I’m young, so my sex lies are like little pornos for your brain. Coretta’s lies are nasty because you can’t imagine what she might have looked like eighty years ago when her vagina wasn’t a gray-and-bushy mess.”

A horrified Roxie mutters, “I’m not going to ask how you know what her vagina looks like.”

“Well, I’m telling you anyway,” Tuesday says and nudges Roxie. “Before Coretta went blind, she was big into skinny dipping. She stopped once she could no longer enjoy the sight of Zeb’s naked body glistening in the moonlight.”

Oana’s eyes get wide. “I think I’m going to dry heave soon.”

“Don’t be biased against the elderly lovers of the world,” Tuesday scolds.

Oana rolls her eyes dramatically while Tuesday waves her arms around with flair. Once they’ve sufficiently shown their feelings on the matter, Tuesday returns to her story.

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