“And we’re sure there’s not a leak in the Ryan family gene pool? Like, is there any way he’s the milkman’s kid?”
I barked out a laugh that was so loud, almost every head in the restaurant turned in my direction. “I need another drink,” I said, standing in a way that momentarily left my chair wobbling on its two back legs.
My phone insistently buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out to see a flurry of texts from my mother:
Sweetie, your hair is a mess.
They’re serving the DeLoach Pinot? I thought
we had the Preston carignane set for the table wine.
Tell your father to stop introducing Aunt Joan as the Prospector. I have no idea why she’s
wearing so much gold nugget jewelry, but he’s being rude.
I had just escaped to the bar for a shot of Johnny Black and to scope out all easily accessible exits—I loved my family but Jesus Christ, these people were fucking nuts—when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
“So you’re the one who’s marrying our Chloe.”
“If she doesn’t get wise and escape before the ceremony,” I said, turning to the women behind me. In an instant, I knew who they were. “You lovely ladies must be Chloe’s aunts.”
The one to my right nodded, and her entire head of fluffy red hair nodded right along with her. “I’m Judith,” she said, and then pointed to her sister. “This is Mary.”
Judith had hair that could only be described as some sort of sugary confection: overdyed and overteased into what resembled spirals of strawberry cotton candy erupting from her head. It could have been merely the power of suggestion, but I swear she even smelled like strawberries. Her skin was still relatively smooth considering her age—mid-sixties, if Chloe was correct—and her brown eyes were sharp and clear as she considered me. Mary shared many of the same facial features as her sister, but her hair was a much more subdued, subtle brown, and piled high on her head in some sort of bedazzled and bobby-pinned twist. And while Judith was tall like Chloe, stopping just below my chin, Mary was barely pushing five feet, and was probably as wide through the chest area as she was tall.
I reached out to shake each of their hands. “It’s nice to finally meet you both,” I said, smiling politely. “Chloe’s told me wonderful things.”
They were having none of that and each pulled me in for a squeezing and rather lingering hug.
“Liar,” Mary said with a cheeky smile. “Our niece is a lot of things, but full of false compliments, she is not.”
“She’s told me she used to spend summers with you. I believe the phrase she’s used most frequently is ‘they’re a hoot.’” I left out the phrases cougars and bat-shit crazy.
“Now that I’ll believe,” Judith said with a snort.
“And how are you ladies enjoying San Diego?” I asked leaning back against the bar. I could see Chloe out of the corner of my eye, and just as I expected, Bull had taken it upon himself to fill my seat and keep her company in my absence. A part of me wanted to be her knight in shining armor, and rescue her, but a larger part knew better: if there was one woman who absolutely did not need rescuing, it was Chloe.
“Oh we’re having the time of our life,” Judith said, sharing a meaningful look with her sister. “Or at least we will be. Did you know this is the first time we’ve both been single in over thirty-five years? This town doesn’t know what’s about to hit it. We’re going to make up for lost time—or die trying.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. I was certainly beginning to see that blunt honesty was a Mills family trait.