The Other P-Word(20)

"It comes with an apartment. Oh yeah, I'm moving out, too," I said. Rick  and Marley had made me feel more than welcome in their house, but they  needed this time together. I was also overdue for a kick in the pants,  and since neither of them were capable of giving it to me, I might as  well kick my own ass into gear. "This bird is flying the coop."

"You don't have to do that. We love having you here," Marley said.

"You and Rick have been great to let me stay here, but I need to be on my own."

"Where exactly is it?" Adam asked, his expression turning serious.

"Relax, it's on Dowager, where they're building the new lofts. The area's going through a massive gentrification."

"What's the name of the bar?" Rick asked.

"It's called The Lost Souls' Club."

"Cool name."

"I know that place," Adam said.

"You've been there?" Stevie asked him.

"No, I've been to the restaurant next to it."

"Which restaurant?"

Adam adjusted the collar of his shirt, an unusual gesture for him. "Hot Chicks."

Stevie raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Hot Chicks?"

Adam rubbed the back of his neck. Bobbie ran around singing ‘hot chicks'  while banging on an imaginary drum that was somehow attached to Adam's  right leg.

"They call it that because they serve chicken."

Stevie's laughter dripped with cynicism. "They don't call it that  because of the girls who wear barely there tank tops and pink silk  shorts with knee-high socks, riding around in roller skates?"

Damien and Rick both choked back laughs. Adam turned toward them, his  discomfort replaced with irritation. "I don't pay attention to that. I'm  only there for the food. But why don't you ask Rick or Damien, since  that's where we usually have lunch after golf."

Rick rubbed his jaw, narrowing his eyes at Adam in the way that  signified he was pissed and jovial in the same instance. "Shit, Adam,  you throw too many people under the bus and we're liable to lift it up  and hock it right back at you, Superman-style."

Bobby ran around his dad in circles, starting a new chant, "Uncle Rick said-"

"Don't say it!" Mom and Stevie screamed.

"Sorry, about that."

Stevie threw the paper airplane Dillon had made. Rick caught it in the  air. "It's okay, but you better start boarding the no swear train soon.  These kids soak it up like chocolate milk on a sponge."                       
       
           



       

Despite the conversation, the tension lifted off us like a dispersing  dark cloud. What a relief that things were getting to be normal around  here again.

"I go because I like the wings, that's all," Damien added.

"It's the wings you like, not the breasts and thighs?" Mom asked, cocking her head.

"The girls in this family don't practice what they preach," Adam said.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I think all four of us said it at the same time.

Adam kept his voice low, but it had power, like the movie announcer  voice. "You call yourself feminists, yet you can't support other women  making a living? I say being a supporter of women means supporting all  women. Sure, you guys root for the ladies who become CEOs or take up  other high-paying occupations, but some girls just want to serve chicken  in a skimpy outfit. What's wrong with that? Who are we to judge them?  Who are we to make them feel any less?" He made the impassioned speech  as if a spotlight shone on him and he had theme music playing. Well, it  sort of did, since he stood right under the living room chandelier and a  rendition of Handel's symphony played in the background. "If anything,  I'm the true feminist around here."

"You?" Stevie asked.

"Yes, because I truly believe a girl can be anything she wants to be."

"What?" Mom asked, cupping her hand over her ear. "I couldn't hear you with that glass ceiling shattering above my head."

"Nice speech, Adam, but that place objectifies women," Marley said.

All of us girls, including Mom, did our signature tsking sound, which  combined sounded like a chorus of disapproval, but it was all in jest  and these guys knew it.

Adam, though, had a habit of not backing down. Perhaps that was one of  the reasons he and Stevie were such a great couple. He was the only one  who could win a fight with her.

"That's an interesting double standard," Adam said.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"Stevie, tell them your Internet handle."

"What do you mean, my handle?"

"The name you use online."

"It's Bobby's proud mommy."

"Nah, not that one. I'm talking about the one you use when you don't want the PTA moms to know what you're up to."

Stevie looked around the table, perhaps hoping one of us would rescue  her. It was a futile search. She sighed in defeat. "It's Adam Levine's  secret lover five-zero-zero-two."

Everyone laughed, especially Marley, whose infectious giggle infected us  all … except Stevie. "Keep laughing, Zac Efron girl number  two-six-eight-zero."

Rick put his arm around her. "Seriously, Marley?"

"What? He's a great actor. I admire his body of work."

"His body of work … or just his body?" I asked.

"Don't start with me, Future Mrs. Charlie Hunnam six-zero-five-one."

Stevie took out her cell phone. "I thought your name was Robert Pattinson's mistress one-zero-zero-one."

"I changed it."

"When? I'm going to have to add you back on."

When I met Evan. I hadn't given it much thought, but they did resemble each other … sort of, but Evan was hotter.

"What are you girls doing online that you need a secret identity?" Mom asked.

Deciding to be our spokesperson, I took the lead. "We belong to a group  of like-minded individuals who enjoy a certain genre of books. We have  stimulating discussions, exchange ideas and attend virtual gatherings to  celebrate these novels."

Adam snorted. "They also exchange pics of shirtless men in kilts. Talk about objectifying."

Stevie held up her hand. "Those men posed for the pictures. We're just appreciating them."

"And these girls choose to wear skimpy shorts and tank tops when they serve chicken. I rest my case."

I had to admit he was pretty good at this.

"What specific genre of novel?" Damien asked, a smirk on his face, no doubt trying to steer the topic.

Adam answered before anyone else could. "The Fifty Shades genre." He  stood behind me, his palm circling the air above my head. "I blame this  one, right here. She started it."                       
       
           



       

"Hey, I just lent them the books. I read them for research purposes."

"Research?"

"I am writing a romance book, in case you've forgotten." I tried to  feign a reproachful look, but their scoffs made it clear none of them  bought it.

"Speaking about that, are you ever going to let us read it?" Marley asked.

"Soon," I said, although the thought of my family, even my sisters,  reading my work scared the shit out of me. Stevie would be too blunt.  Marley would be too nice. And my mom …  Well, there were certain things  you don't want to think about your mom reading … my book was one of them.

"Can't wait," Mom said, pinching my cheek, which I was sure already  suffered from a deep crimson glow. "But I have to say that I'm really  disappointed in you girls." She cast a disapproving glance, pausing  thoughtfully at each of us. Even as adults, we shrank in our seats.

"Why didn't you ever invite me?"

Yep, this was life in my crazy family-and I wouldn't have it any other way.





Chapter Eleven





"You know you don't have to move out," Marley said, her lower lip trembling.

"Jesus, Marley, you act as if you'll never see her again," Rick said, wiping her tear before it fell.

"Hormones," she said, her voice choked.

I believed her. Marley wasn't a crier by nature. I don't know why  everyone had insisted on helping me move. It wasn't as if I had that  much stuff and it made the situation so much more dramatic than it  needed to be. I wondered where Evan was. I'd knocked on his door to  introduce him to everyone but he wasn't home.

The apartment, an efficiency with a tiny kitchen, living area and  bedroom all in one, fit me perfectly. It represented my first place … one I  paid for on my own dime.

"Your mom's sorry she couldn't be here, but finding a nanny is proving  more difficult than we thought, and we didn't think bringing all the  boys here was a good idea. She'll come by later this week," Damien said.  He was right-Bobby and my brothers would have destroyed this place.