Page 6 of Consummation

“But it doesn’t matter. The boy needs extras. He can’t even boil water.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Dax says. “Whatever happened to personal responsibility?”

“You’re an enabler, Mom,” Ryan says. “Plain and simple.”

“Don’t listen to ’em, Mom. You’re doing great,” Keane says.

Mom squeezes Keane’s hand again. “Look, I’ll be the first to admit I parent each of you guys differently. For each and every one of you, I’m the mother you specificallyneed.” She looks at Keane adoringly. “And when it comes to extras, Keane needs them.”

The table erupts.

“Enough,” Mom says firmly. “No arguing about extras, guys.”

We all grumble quietly for another long moment, especially Ryan.

“Hey, Ry, you can have my extras,” I say. “I don’t need ’em.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” Ryan says. “I’ll happily steal extras fromPeenelope Cruz with a clear conscience, but I won’t steal ’em from Spunky Brewster. I’ll wait my turn.”

Mom’s face lights up. “Spunky Brewster? Finally, a sweet one. Now was that so hard?”

Ryan’s expression is absolutely priceless right now. “No, Mother Dear,” he says piously. “It wasn’t. In fact, it was really quite easy.”

Mom looks at me lovingly. “I love it. It sure fits our Kitty Kat. I can’t think of a better word to describe her thanspunky.”

My brothers are absolutely dying right now.

“Yep,” Ryan says, his nostrils flaring. “That’s our Kitty Kat for you: full ofspunk.”

Everyone at the table bursts into raucous, tear-filled laughter except for poor, clueless, adorable Mom who’s obviously never heard that particular slang term for cum before.

“What?” Mom asks, her eyes wide. “What’s so funny? Am I being dumb?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Dad says, laughing his ass off.

“Am I being dumb?”

Dad shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later, Louise.”

But we all know he won’t tell Mom a goddamned thing. Not a single one of us, including Dad, would ever dream of throwing our hilarious Captain Morgan under the Mom-bus—he’s just too goddamned entertaining.

“So when’s your next gig, Dax?” Dad asks, obviously trying to change the subject. “Anything I might be able to catch?”

Dax wipes his eyes from laughing. “Uh, sure, Pops. Friday we’re playing at that Irish pub downtown, and Saturday we’re playing at a street fair in Bremerton...”

Normally, I love hearing every last detail about Dax’s upcoming gigs, but at the moment I can’t concentrate on what Dax is saying—not when my oldest brother is staring me down, drawing my attention like a magnet.

When my eyes lock onto Colby’s, he makes a sympathetic face—and, just like that, my eyes water. I look away, my lower lip trembling. Damn, that Colby—even when Josh isn’t here, Colby can sniff him out.

As if on cue, my phone buzzes with a text from Josh.

“Are you at Colby’s birthday dinner?” Josh writes.

It’s all I can do not to scream in frustration. For crying out loud, it was only last night I told Josh I needed a few days to think and regroup after being blindsided at the karaoke bar. What does he think has changed in twenty-four little hours? (Okay, yes, in point of fact, every goddamned thing in my life has changed in twenty-four little hours, thank you very much—but Josh doesn’t know that. And, anyway, discovering I’m pregnant with Josh’s accidental spawn has only made me feellessprepared to talk to him any time soon, notmore.)Gah. If only I could talk to Sarah. She always helps me find clarity in the midst of any shit storm. Unfortunately, though, talking to Sarah isn’t an option, at least not for a few weeks. She’s starting her final exams on Monday and right after that, she’s heading off to Greece to get engaged (unbeknownst to her).

I tune back into the conversation at the dinner table. Ryan and Colby are talking about the second season ofTrue Detective.

“I agree it isn’t as good as the first season,” Colby says. “But Idon’t know why people are trashing it. It’s still one of the best shows on TV.”

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