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a few short months, Sharon has turned into a full-blown Millennial when it comes to talking on the phone—she’ll do anything to avoid it.
No, Coco’s family did not entertain at home. Coco used to make herself a bowl of Cap’n Crunch or a grilled cheese and eat in her room, where she either read the classics or watched DVDs from the 1980s and 1990s that she borrowed from her high-school library.
Books had raised her (Jane Austen had taught her how to comport herself at a dinner party like this one), and movies allowed her to escape the chaos going on outside her bedroom door.
Avalon, who, Coco is relieved to see, has a tattoo of a mandala on her shoulder. When Coco asks what she does for a living, Avalon says she’s a masseuse and a yoga instructor. “I have a private clientele for both massage and yoga,” she says.
He circles to the back of the boat, reminding himself to breathe; the biggest threat to his health isn’t cherry pie, it’s stress.
Sharon and Romeo are adults. They don’t have to worry about first-time home ownership or raising kids or establishing careers. They have learned how to be present and enjoy a moment.
Bull brings Leslee a sarong from Indonesia. It’s made of the finest silk, Leslee brags to Coco, it’s the highest quality of batik. Coco has to admit the sarong is gorgeous, with swirling shades of green from jade to seafoam. Leslee googles six ways to tie it, all of which look fabulous on her.
What is this party but a gross example of cultural appropriation?
