it goes unseen.
They’re too busy sucking face like a couple of horny teens.
“Ugh,” I groan. “Get a room, you two.”
My parents pull themselves apart, my mom tucking her lips together and burying her face in my dad’s neck. At least she bothers to look embarrassed. My dad just rolls his eyes, saying, “Last I checked, you don’t live here. This whole house is our room, cockblock.”
“Oh my god!” I cover my ears. “What did I tell you about calling me that?”
“What?” His voice is full of unwarranted innocence. “It’s what you are. It’s what you’ve been since the day you were born. I’m surprised we even found the time to sneak away and make your brother.”
“Make my brother?” I screw my face up. “That somehow sounds worse than you just saying having sex.”
“I prefer gettin’ jiggy,” my mother interjects, apparently having gotten over her embarrassment.
“I regret coming here,” I mutter, turning to leave as my parents burst into laughter behind me.
“Don’t go, Thea! We’re just messing with you. Come on in here. We have some exciting news.”
“Fine, but no more talk of sex or jiggy or whatever you want to call it. Deal?”
“Deal,” they promise in unison.
With reluctance, I take a seat at the table, noting that they’re both sipping wine from Solo cups like they always have.
I might give them a hard time about it, but I love that my parents are so affectionate after so many years together. I know firsthand how hard it is to keep a relationship going. To still be so strong after thirty years and two kids? Well, they get all the kudos from me for keeping their shit together.
“You look tired.” My mom’s lips pull down at the corners. “Have you been sleeping?”
“Yeah, just busy keeping up with the shop since that dicklick Mark was fired and we’re low on techs.” I look to my dad before he can even say anything. “Don’t apologize again. You didn’t know he was a gross pig.”
Two weeks ago, a tech got handsy with me, and I fired him on the spot. That pickle we were already in with being short on employees? Yeah, it got a whole lot worse. That’s exactly why I was at Slice catching up on work today. I’ve been hands-on in the shop all week trying to pick up the slack, and there’s been minimal time for paperwork.
He nods, not saying anything, but I can see the regret and tiredness in his eyes. He’s just as exhausted as I am.
“What’s that?” my mom asks, changing the subject and trying to peel open the Slice takeout box. “I thought you hated pizza.”
“Why is everyone on my ass about that today?”
“Because it’s unnatural. Isn’t it, Harvey?” My dad grunts a response. “So, what’s in the box?”
“What’s in the box?” my dad screams, à la Seven.
I ignore him and flip the lid open. “I give you…dessert pizza!”
“I thought you were pretending they don’t serve dessert pizza?”
“I was, but…something came up today and it was warranted.”
“Oh, Thea.” My mother laughs. “Only you would cave to the sweets in your savory sanctuary. Is Slice ruined for you now?”
And miss running into Sully again?
“Nah, I’ll go back. The dominant scent there is still tomato and cheese, so I think I’m safe.”
Chuckling, she pushes herself off my dad’s lap, heading to the cabinet for a couple of plates. She serves us each a slice, and we all dive in, letting the conversation pause as we stuff our faces with sugar.
“So,” my dad starts once his plate is cleared, checking the old watch that’s been strapped to his wrist since I was a kid. “We have some news.”
“Yeah? Does it involve you telling me I’m adopted? Because if so, I already know.”
“Trust me, you’re not adopted. I remember the sixteen hours of labor I had to go through just to get your stubborn little ass into the world.”
“Here we go again…” I mutter.
“And I remember those sixteen hours of getting blamed for all her pain,” Dad adds. “You are definitely not adopted.”
“A girl can dream,” I tease, shoving the last bite of my slice between my lips. I grab the empty plates and head for the dishwasher. “What’s this good news you have?”
“Well…”
There’s obvious excitement in my mom’s voice, which can only mean one of two things.
One, they won the lottery.
Or two, it has something to do with Jonas.
“Jonas is getting married!”
“Hey, sis.”
I spin around, surprised to find my not-so-little little brother and his soon-to-be wife standing in the kitchen