Page 79 of Pregnant By the Playboy
He turns to me. “She convinced him to do shocking things like read on the balcony in the middle of the day with a beer.”
“You got that phallic cactus, too,” Cedric says.
“I looked up what this ‘phallic’ word means.” Po Po sniffs. “I do not approve.”
“Don’t worry,” Vince says. “Joey is not very phallic anymore. His, uh, balls have gotten quite big and he’s not as erect.”
“Maybe we should talk about something else,” Vince’s mom says, “so Marissa doesn’t think we’re too weird.”
Evie squawks loudly.
“Yes, you must be careful,” Po Po says, “or Evie’s first word will be ‘phallic cactus.’”
“That’s two words,” Julian mutters.
“You know what I mean! It is bad language for a child, and they always copy the worst things they hear.”
“Like how Vince’s first two-word phrase was ‘fucking asshole.’” His mom turns to her husband. “Thanks to your road rage.”
“It set the tone for the rest of Vince’s life,” Cedric says, and Vince gets up to swat his brother. Cedric allows this, but then steals Pusheen.
Evie immediately starts wailing.
“Guess what I found in the basement the other day?” Vince’s mom says. “General Bloopy.” She holds up a rather sad-looking purple dinosaur.
“General Bloopy the Second,” Vince says morosely. “I can’t believe you lied.”
“Not my fault you couldn’t tell the difference.” She holds the dinosaur toward the loveseat. Vince grabs it and hands it to Evie.
She isn’t comforted.
“See?” Vince says. “She knows he’s a fraud!”
“Come here, love.” Courtney picks up her daughter and snuggles her. “It’s okay. Mama will get your Pusheen back from Mean Uncle Cedric.”
“I’m not mean!” Cedric protests, and Vince snorts.
My attention is ping-ponging between all the members of Vince’s family, trying to follow the conversation, the affectionate teasing.
“Do you have much family here?” Vince’s mom asks.
I shake my head. “Just my mother, plus her husband and his family.”
“So you have a stepfather?” Po Po asks.
“I don’t think of him as my stepfather. I didn’t meet him until I was in my late twenties.”
“What about your father?”
Vince gives his grandmother a look.
“He’s dead.”
Always a great conversation killer. Ever since I was little.
I glance at Vince’s father. What would it be like to have Charles Fong as a dad?
This is the family I yearned for as a child. At Christmas, most of the other kids would have family to visit—grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins—or siblings to play with.
