Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Aunt Vivian’s being intentionally obstinate, trying to put Samantha firmly beneath her and still offended by her comment that she’s with me for sex, not money.
If I allowed myself to think about Aunt Vivian and sex in one sentence for more than a second, I’d probably come to the conclusion that, like everything else in her life, Vivian uses sex as a tool to get what she wants. She’s never considered that it might be something done for simple pleasure between two people without an ulterior motive.
And that’s enough of that thought stream, because again . . . Aunt Viv and sex.
Blech, and pass the brain bleach!
But Aunt Vivian’s never gone head-to-head with someone like Samantha, and I’m equal parts terrified and excited about what’s about to happen because while Vivian thinks she’s had the final word, Samantha’s pulling her thoughts together, prepping for maximum impact and effectiveness.
I think I hear Kayla whisper, “Watch this.”
To Kyle? To Cole? Who knows? But I suspect Kayla recognizes a sister-in-kind, and sees that Samantha is well-spoken, strong, and about to lay down a verbal beating the likes of which Aunt Vivian can’t even fathom.
“It’s Samantha, not that you asked before launching into a fifty-five-minute diatribe. I must say, I’m impressed with your breath control, though I doubt you put it to good use.” She shakes her head in mock sadness, and I nearly choke from trying not to laugh at what she’s implying. “And some of us are looking for more in life than a ring and our Daddy’s love. But exaggerating about your son, singing his praises in such a romanticized manner, and putting yourself in the middle of what should be their moment is, to put it bluntly . . . professionally concerning.”
“Chance!” Dad hisses, telling me to get my date under control . . . now, or pay the price.
I lean forward, meeting Dad’s eyes boldly. “Well, Samantha is a professional. She’d know. Besides, we’ve all said it. It’s weird and gross.”
Dad tilts his head, silently reminding me that we’re not supposed to repeat private gossip in public, or even in front of family when it’s about other family members.
“What? You’re talking about me? About my Devin?” Aunt Vivian wails, sounding horribly wounded. “Daddy!” She pouts, turning her attention to Grandpa Chuck, and though she screws her face up, there’s not a tear in sight.
If she could stomp her foot like a toddler, I think she would. As it is, sitting at the table, she throws her napkin to her plate in a vague threat of leaving.
“Hell, if you’re starting the waterworks this early, you should’ve had your little birthday par-tay at Chuck E. Cheese. They’re used to dealing with tantrum-throwing kids,” Kyle suggests. “Probably used to hissy fits from adults too. Could’a just thrown you in the ball pit or something.”
“I LOVE ball pits!” Grace adds helpfully.
“Vivian, I wasn’t the best father, and it’s one of my few regrets in life, but you’ve got to admit, this was a bit much,” Grandpa says carefully, taking control of the room. Holding hands with Grandma Beth, I get the feeling this is a conversation they’ve had many times over the years.
“Me? You’re blaming this on me?” Aunt Vivian screeches, standing up abruptly. “Of course you are. It’s always my fault. I’m not good enough, not smart enough, not male enough for you,” she spits out. “Thank God, Charlie Junior came along so you’d have at least one kid to love.” She sends an angry glare her brother’s way before returning her vitriol to her father. “I thought maybe you’d have it in your old, shriveled raisin of a heart to at least love your grandson too since he’s the only thing that matters to you—a son.”
“You don’t want me to love him. You want me to bankroll him, and by default you, but I haven’t given a single cent to any of Charles’s kids, or your sisters’,” Grandpa says evenly, “and it wouldn’t be fair to give Devin any.”
“Fair? Fair? Faaaiiir!” she bellows, but she’s run out of steam. Having spewed the venom she's been holding for most of her life and been called on her true game, she huffs, “Come on, Devin. We’re leaving.”
Devin hops up, accustomed to following Mommy’s orders. Bridgette is a little slower from lack of practice, but she rises too. As they follow Aunt Vivian out of the room, Samantha gets up quickly and rushes over to stop Bridgette.
“This might not be my place to say, but if you need someone to talk to, call me at Chance’s club. And for the love of all things holy matrimony, you have to watch I Love a Momma’s Boy on TV. Girl, you’re living it in high-definition and don’t even recognize how deep you’re in. Every alarm is ringing, but you’re not saving yourself. Please, I’ve got one word for you . . . RUN.”