Page 81 of Until Next Summer

“You’re messing with me,” Jessie says.

“You could shave it into fun little shapes—like a heart ora triangle. Ooh!” Zoey lights up. “A little arrow pointing the way.”

“Pointing the way to what? Hey, that meat looks good.”

Now it’s Dot, walking toward the three of us, her walkie-talkie swinging from her belt.

Jessie shakes her head. “Please, join us. Let’s make this a full staff meeting.”

“It’s good to get opinions from a wide demographic,” I say, then turn to Dot and motion her to sit. “We’re talking pubic hair. To shave or not to shave.”

“Or wax,” Zoey adds.

“Nah, you gotta let that grow,” Dot says. She swings her leg around to sit sideways on the bench next to Jessie, helping herself to some salami. “I’ll tell ya, I shaved it all offonetime and I looked like a plucked chicken down there for weeks.” I wrinkle my nose at that mental image. “And the regrowth!” Dot shudders. “Nope. It’s there for a reason. Keeps things hygienic. Plus…” She winks. “Wilderness is fun to explore.”

“It shouldn’t matter what you have down there,” Zoey says, getting more passionate with each word. “If a man has a problem with it, he’s not worthy. He should be honored to evenbethere. He should bow down and worship the queen of the jungle!”

“Who’s this ‘he’? Are we talking about someone specifically?” Dot asks.

“No!” Jessie shouts, at the exact same time I say, “Luke.”

Jessie shoots me a death glare as Dot chuckles and says, “Ah, The Man’s getting acquainted with the ol’ Vulvarine?”

Jessie’s cheeks flame red. “No. No acquaintance.”

“Yet,” I add.

Jessie rolls her eyes. “Nothingis happening.”

“Then why are we talking beav?” Dot helps herself to another big slice of salami, topping it with cheese before popping it in her mouth.

Jessie presses her lips together and squeezes her eyes shut; I can’t tell if she’s mortified or trying not to laugh. Or both. “I just don’t want to look like a forest troll.”

“You’d never look like a forest troll,” Zoey says. “Trolls are short. You’re more like a…forest ogre?”

“Thanks,” Jessie says dryly.

“Who’s a forest ogre?”

We all turn our heads to see Zac walking up, shirtless in his swimming shorts, a towel draped around his shoulders.

“Annnnnnnd we’re done!” Jessie says, standing up. “Good talk, gotta go.”

I reach across the table and grab her arm, pulling her back down. “Actually, Zac, it’s great you’re here. We need a guy’s opinion.”

“Sure,” Zac says, sitting next to his wife and giving her a kiss. “Can I have some?” he asks, motioning to the food.

“Please do,” I say, pushing the charcuterie board toward him. He dives in, stacking meat, cheese, and dried fruit high on a cracker.

“Do men have pubic hair preferences for women?” Zoey asks him, matter-of-fact.

Zac pops the entire cracker in his mouth, then chews, taking the question seriously. “I mean, I know some guys say they like it bare, but doesn’t that seem a little…prepubescent?”

He smiles broadly, like he’s proud of himself for using such a big word.

“Good job, baby,” Zoey says. “So you don’t mind a full bush?”

“What kind of Aussie would I be if I didn’t like the bush down under?” He grins, loading up another cracker. “Wilderness is meant to be explored, I’d say.”

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