laughs, her eyes bright with joy. “Do you have baby stuff?”
“I have a few onesies and some socks, but I have time to get the big stuff before he’s born.”
“You get diapers at the birthday party.” Mom smiles. “We should give you a birthday party.”
I’m sure she means baby shower, but what the hell. “That’s a good idea, Mom.”
Lindsey rubs her belly and adds, “I can buy Frankie diapers and everything else he needs.”
“I think Mom’s right.” It’s too bad Lindsey doesn’t have a group of friends or family members to throw her a baby shower. “You need a baby shower.”
“No. We don’t need a big fuss. I mean, it’s not like we…” Lindsey blushes and looks down at her stomach.
“You can’t speak for Frankie. He might want a big piece of cake.”
Lindsey smiles and I snap another picture. “Frankie likes cake.”
“I believe that. You’re huge!”
I ignore Mom. “We’ll need decorations.”
“I’ve never seen anyone as big as you!”
“I’ve never hosted a baby shower, but it can’t be that hard to plan. I’ll look on the internet for ideas.”
“And games,” Mom adds. “A good party has to have games.”
Lindsey sits on the couch next to Mom, and I take a few pictures of them together. “Won’t it just be the three of us? What kind of games?”
“That game with the dots on the floor.” Mom poses with her hands on the side of her face next to the big bow.
“Dots on the floor?” I take several pictures of her looking cheesy.
“You put a hand on one dot and a foot on another.”
“Twister?” Lindsey and I laugh. Mom’s too old, Lindsey’s too pregnant, and I’m too short. Twister isn’t fun when you’re the short kid.
“Don’t invite the Duffys if we’re playing Twister.” Mom shakes her head. “Rex is a hairy bastard and sheds in the baby oil.”
It takes a few heartbeats for that to sink in. Lindsey and I suck in horrified breaths, but Mom is not quite finished.
“What were those people’s names?” Mom’s brows pull together. “They had a girl your age with really crossed eyes.”
“Jodee Pulaski, and her eyes didn’t cross if she wore her glasses.”
“Lovely couple. Not at all hairy.”
“Mom, stop! I don’t need to know any of this.” I remember that family. They’d seemed so normal compared to mine. The children had been involved in Scouts, they’d gone on family vacations to Yellowstone and Disneyland. They went to church every Sunday. I know because I used to go with Jodee to get saved.
“They didn’t want to see Rex’s big hairy—”
“Mom, don’t say it!”
“—back.”
One day, we just never saw them again, but that wasn’t unusual. It happened a lot. Mostly because Mom couldn’t get along with women for very long. She still can’t, but I always thought the Pulaskis stopped coming around because they got tired of saving me on Sundays. I never suspected it had to do with naked Twister.
19
Mom’s stash.
The plan.
What’s wrong with this picture?
HIDE THOSE someplace where Wynonna won’t find ’em.” Mom pulls the earrings from her lobes and shoves them toward me. “A spot where no one will find them.”
“Okay.” I have to fight to keep my eyes from rolling.
“Damn her.” Mom shakes a dramatic fist as she rises from the sofa.
Lindsey and I make brief eye contact over the top of her head. Mom has enough Pirate’s Booty to last her several months. She’s stashed it somewhere and can’t remember where now. I shove the earrings up my tight lace sleeve because I don’t trust Raphael not to take off with them if I set them down.
It’s nearing noon, and Mom gets grumpy around this time every day. Before her bladder infection, her mental and emotional slide started around four in the afternoon. Now it starts sooner. Lindsey and I help her out of the old skirt and jacket, but she insists on keeping the hat. “It’s a good hat,” she says, and follows Lindsey to the kitchen so she can boss her around. “I want roast beef.”
“If you want roast beef, you’ll have to make it yourself. I’m making halibut for lunch.”
I gather everything and return to the parlor. Raphael is still hanging from the chandelier and screams as I pass, but not like someone’s stabbing him this time. No, this scream is filled with terror and happens to sound remarkably like Lindsey’s.
“Not funny,” I say, but he laughs anyway.
I return Mom’s skirt and jacket to the trunk and pull Grandmother’s wedding dress over my head. I gather the gloves Mom tossed about