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There were worse ways to be greeted in your own home than by catching your mother spread-eagle, plastered against the glass backyard door, getting mauled by her fiancé. But I couldn’t think of any of them as I stood at the entrance tightening my fist around the door handle, fighting—and losing—a war against my gag reflex.
“I said, sex is on the table.” Silence. “Or anywhere else you’d like to have it, to be honest. I’m not picky.” My. Jaw. Was. On. The. Goddamn. Floor.
You will not blow our cover and won’t tell anyone about that time a balloon got stuck in my braces in eighth grade and everybody thought it was a condom.” She gave me a frustrated look. “Rhyland, it was a condom.” “It was a beige-colored balloon, Dylan.” It was a condom.
“I want you like I’ve never wanted anything in my fucking life.” His voice was thick and dark. “I know I’m a pig, but I can’t stop fantasizing about fucking you.”
“Because I’ve spent half my fucking lifetime studying every curve and measurement of your body.”
The most beautiful girl in the world. Wild but soft. Brave but lost. Imperfect but whole.
“The child can wait.” “Stop calling her the child like she’s something that needs to be extorted,”
“G’night.” “Uncle Rhyrand, you forgot my good-night kiss.” Internally gagging like a cat with a hair ball stuck in its airway, I leaned down and pressed my lips to her forehead. She had that tiny-human smell, somewhere between baked goods and a warm, fluffy pillow. I stood up. She blinked back at me in the dark. “Don’t forget words of affirmation, asshole.” Dylan’s words echoed in my head. Even in my head, she was busting my balls. Also, crap. What should I say? I didn’t know this child, and whatever I knew didn’t exactly impress me. “Let’s see. You…uh, aren’t too annoying for a kid?” She
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“Ink?” “A giraffe eating a donut.” “Random, but I’ll allow.” I grabbed the markers and started doodling on her Band-Aid.
“Pink?” My champagne went down the wrong pipe, causing me to cough into my fist. “That’s your favorite color?” “What’s not to like about pink? It’s the color of nipples and pussy—both my favorite things.”
Rhyland: Don’t forget I’ll have to get handsy with your sister tonight bc of Marshall. Row: Not too handsy. She is saving herself for marriage. Rhyland: SHE HAS A KID. Row: She found Jesus.
“Careful with that mouth,” I whispered into the shell of her ear. “Or I’ll have to fill it with something long and thick to shut you up.” “Really?” She tipped her chin up to stare at me, her heavy-lidded sex eyes zeroing in on mine. “You think they serve cannoli here?”
Good moaning, Cosmos. Hope you had a great night. I’ll see you very soon. —Rhyland’s cock.
“What are you looking at?” I started slicing an apple for her. “Uncle Rhyrand and I drew faces on my toenails and made a TV show about them. They are all different characters.”
“Mommy doesn’t have a boyfriend!” Gravity announced, leaning on her palms to grab a faraway piece of her My Little Pony puzzle. “She says boys are bad. But she lets Uncle Rhyrand babysit me, because he is okay for a fuckboy.” Pause. “What’s a fuckboy, Mommy?”
“You’re cute. You’re smart. You keep Uncle Rhyland from saying bad words because he can’t afford your fees.” I winked. “Oh, I wove you, Uncle Rhyrand.” “I like you too, little stinker.”
“It’s only two,” I pointed out. She shrugged. “I needed something stronger than coffee.” “I’d have volunteered my dick.”
“Duh, dude. What the fuck? She’s my girl.”
“What’s this shit I’m hearing about you fucking dying and not calling me to come help?”
“Just get inside, Rhy. I don’t care if I fart on you—I want my ass fucked.” Holy shit. Was I falling in love?
“Gravity doesn’t have accidents. She graces us with her sometimes unexplained art,”
