—Turkey Time—
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LISA
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I'm not sure how to read Jennie's reaction to my saying yes.
If I'm completely honest, the cupcakes are the clincher. They're dangerously addictive. Like nicotine, or heroin, or cocaine—none of which has ever been an addiction of mine. Hence the reason I hastily agreed to spend an entire day with Jennie and her family when I know very little about her.
If nothing else, this should prove to be an entertaining day. Jennie is…a lot of personality. And I don't mean that in a bad way. I'm still trying to figure her out and I guess now I'll have the opportunity to do that.
I put a note on the front door of The Manoban Cap apologizing for the closure today, and indicating we'll be open again tomorrow, which is when I notice a sign on the empty building across the street. "Is that new?" I ask Jennie. She's busy inspecting all the framed photos of my grandparents that line the wall opposite the booths. I'm sure they have new meaning for her now that she knows the story behind them.
"Hmm?" She drags her gaze away from a black-and-white photo of Gramps and Grams when they were young—younger than I am now.
I point across the street. "Looks like someone finally leased that place. I wonder what's opening there."
She crosses over to where I'm standing. "It's a big building. Wasn't it a law office before or something?"
"I think so, yeah?" It's changed hands a number of times over the years.
"So it's probably something similar, which will be good for both of us." She tips her chin up and looks at me. "More business professionals to cater to."
"Let's hope that's what it is, then." More patrons means The Manoban Cap has even greater potential to do well.
"Should I follow you back to your place so you can change, and then we can head to my parents' place?"
I look down at my old white T-shirt and my sweats. "Probably a good idea. Not sure sweats are appropriate for much other than the gym and lazy days at home."
..
Jennie takes down my address so she can follow me to my place. It's not far from the pub. Making her wait in the car is rude, so I invite her up to my apartment.
It feels weird to have her in my personal space. Although, honestly, the only thing I do here lately is sleep.
"Wow. I don't think it gets more man cave than this," Jennie says as she takes in my loft apartment. It's not huge, but it's comfortable.
"It's just me." I'm not sure if I should be defensive about her assessment or not.
"I can see that." She runs her fingertips along the edge of the distressed wood table I rarely use. I'm not here enough to entertain, and eating dinner alone at a table meant for six is kind of depressing. Mostly I eat at the bar, or on rare occasions when I'm not in a rush, in front of the TV.
"Let me guess: Your place looks like a unicorn vomited a rainbow of happiness all over it?" Mostly I'm poking fun at her.
She laughs. "You would be guessing wrong."
"So you don't have eleven million throw cushions with inspirational phrases on them?" I toe off my shoes and toss them by the door.
"Ahh, just ten million or so, and only a few have cute unicorns farting inspirational phrases." The way she rolls her shoulder back and her narrow-eyed glare tells me everything I need to know.
I've totally hit a nerve. I don't know why I enjoy needling her as much as I do. Maybe because she's so prone to reacting. "I bet your place is decorated for the holiday. All sorts of cute pumpkin stuff everywhere, a papier-mâché turkey centerpiece that you made at some workshop on your dining room table."
Her cheeks flush pink. "I don't have a dining room table."
"But you have a papier-mâché turkey?"
"I had several construction paper ones when I was a child. I probably would have kept them for all eternity if my parents hadn't thrown out my box of homemade crafts when I was a teenager in the name of decluttering."
I file that little piece of information away, feeling like she's told me a secret she didn't intend to. "Pumpkin, then?" I press.
I can tell it irritates her that I can read her so easily, but all anyone has to do is step foot inside Buttercream and Booze to see how much she loves the holidays. "Ceramic, not papier-mâché."
"And you painted it yourself?"
"Maybe." She pokes me in the shoulder. "Enough with all the questions. It's an hour and a half drive; you'll have loads of time trapped in a car to make fun of me."
"Right. Yeah." I'm not sure what a long ride in a car together is going to be like. "I'll just change real quick. Can I get you something to drink while you wait?"
"I'm fine, thanks."
I leave her to wander around my apartment while I change. She doesn't seem the type to snoop, but you never know. Considering Jennie is wearing one of her dresses complete with festive holiday print, I decide a pair of black casual pants, dress shirt, and plaid tie are appropriate. I don't bother with contacts since my eyes already feel gritty from lack of sleep.
I find her in my living room, staring up at a collage of family photos. "Ready to roll?"
She turns her head slowly, her expression soft. "I'm so sorry." She reaches up and adjusts the wooden picture frame, and suddenly her apology makes sense. That was the last family photo we took, and the phrase "In loving memory" is etched into the matte in silver letters.
It's never level, always listing to the right because the frame itself is unbalanced. I refuse to change it, though, because it was one of my first woodshop projects, and my dad and I worked on it together. It's old and cracked and a whole lot ugly, but it's a memory I can't let go of. I nod and swallow around the lump in my throat. "Oh, uh, thanks. It was a long time ago." But on days like this it feels like it was yesterday, not a decade ago, that they passed.
"How old were you when you lost them?" She presses her hand to her chest. "You don't have to answer that if it's not something you want to talk about."
"It's okay." I jam my hands in my pockets and clear my throat again as I step up beside her. "I was twenty."
She blows out a slow, tremulous breath, her smile sad. "That must have been so hard. It looks like you were close."
"We were a tight family. My brothers are both older, so they were more settled, with careers and partners. It shook us all up pretty good. I ended up living with my gramps and grams for a couple of years after they passed."
She nods, putting together the pieces of the puzzle, like why I took over The Manoban Cap and why I kept all the pictures of him and Grams up.
"I'm sorry you're not with your family today."
"I'm used to celebrating after the fact." If my brother's place wasn't so far away I might have made the effort to drive out there again today. But after spending all day yesterday taking Gramps up there and coming back, I just don't have the energy. And sometimes the family stuff is harder on days like today, especially since my brothers are in committed relationships, and everyone gets on me for being alone. I force a smile and change the subject. "We should probably hit the road, huh?"
She gives her head a slight shake, as if she's been lost in her own thoughts. "Oh yes. Definitely." She squeezes my forearm gently. "Endless food awaits."
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..
Jennie wasn't lying about her love of the movie Grease. The soundtrack is saved as a playlist. Apparently she's a huge fan of movie and musical soundtracks.
"Feel free to change it to whatever you like. I know this isn't everyone's cup of tea." She motions to the stereo system.
Jennie drives a midsized SUV that has a pretty prominent rattle in the engine. It also boasts a Buttercream and Booze magnetic sign on both the driver and passenger side doors. The engine rattle makes me wonder what kind of restaurant background she comes from and how much her family has struggled to make a living at it.
"You said your family is in the restaurant industry, right?" I ask, making small talk.
"Yup, they are." Jennie taps the steering wheel, like she's drumming to the beat of the song.
"So why don't you work with them? Why go out on your own?" Clearly they're at least somewhat close if she's willing to drive an hour and a half for dinner.
"They're more steak and lobster, and that isn't where my passion lies," she replies. "They like to hobnob, and I like…not to."
There's clearly more to that story, but I don't know if I should push it too much since despite all our interactions—which have been mostly Jennie being pissed off at me for something—I'm not sure we're at a place where she feels comfortable sharing too much personal information. Although I'm attending Thanksgiving dinner with her family, in part because it was better than being alone, and also because I'm curious about Jennie. It's a bit of a strange situation all the way around. "Do you want to expand on that?"
She grips and releases the steering wheel, blowing out a breath. "My family is a little…odd."
Considering Jennie dresses like she's June Cleaver's pinup-worthy sister I can't say I'm all that surprised. "Aren't all families odd?"
"Mine more than most, I think. They're all very Type A and concerned about money and being the best. And of course I want to be the best, too, but on my own merit and not theirs. I could've worked my way up the ladder in one of their restaurants, but I love baking, and that was never going to fly with them, so I went out on my own instead." She signals right and takes the next exit off the freeway. "They're also kind of insane, and I spent the first twenty-five years of my life dealing with it on a daily basis. I figured I deserved some separation from that."
"That's fair. I love my brothers, but they drive me nuts on a good day. We worked for the same company for a while, but they ended up going out on their own and I don't know that I could ever really work for them." Which was part of the reason I went in a different direction. They wanted the three of us to go into business together and I already didn't love the job.
"Mmm. Family businesses can be tough. It would be a lot easier financially if I went in the direction they wanted me to. They'd love to have me as their pastry chef, designing intricate, elaborate creations that would get them written up by all the highbrow foodie bloggers. But that's not my style. I'd rather struggle to make ends meet for a while than give up my own dream."
"I can't imagine how intense it must be doing it all on your own." It makes me even more grateful for Gramps's support.
"The first couple of years are always hard, but I'm hoping in the end it'll pay off. Someday I'll be able to get more than five hours of sleep a night and my diet won't consist mostly of leftover cupcakes and almost-expired sandwiches."
"Because you don't have time to cook?"
She lifts a shoulder. "Everything I have is tied up in Buttercream and Booze so if the money's already spent on the food, then I might as well eat it rather than buy groceries that are going to rot in my fridge because I'm never home."
"Do you remember the last time you had a lazy Saturday?" I ask.
"Nope." Jennie raises her finger in the air. "Wait. I had the flu two years ago and had to take a Saturday off because of it."
"I don't think that counts as a lazy day." This conversation makes me highly aware of just how hard Jennie has to work to get where she is. It explains why she was so hostile the first time I met her.
Jennie turns down a country road and the distance between houses increases. The farther we get from the freeway, the antsier Jennie becomes. She stops asking questions and her answers grow shorter, more clipped. She starts to nibble on her bottom lip, eyes darting to me and away every so often.
"Having second thoughts?" I'm kind of joking, kind of not. We don't know each other all that well and while I find myself strangely attracted to her, I'm not sure if it's completely one-sided or not. I believe the invite was more her feeling bad for me, but there's also been more than one interaction that's included thinly veiled innuendo and what seems like flirting.
"No. Not really. I mean—" She cringes. "I should probably warn you; my family is a bit…unconventional."
"Unconventional how?" Maybe they're circus-performing restaurateurs.
Jennie slows the SUV and makes a careful right. She stops at the gated entrance. For the first time I notice the eight-foot wrought-iron fence that stretches out on both sides into the distance. It's surrounded by forest. Maybe they're part of a commune. Or a cult. I sincerely hope I make it out of this alive.
Jennie punches in a code and the gate opens slowly. She clutches the steering wheel until her knuckles turn white as we make our way down the narrow tree-lined driveway.
"Holy crap," I mutter when the house comes into view. Because it's not a house. It's a goddamn palace. A seriously eccentric, gaudy as hell, gothic and creepy palace. Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but based on the vehicle Jennie drives, the knowledge that she had a freaking cupcake truck, and the cheap rent she must pay for Buttercream and Booze, I'm a little shocked. This doesn't really add up. "Your family lives here?" Maybe they're the help and we'll be eating in the servant quarters. Or we'll have to actually serve dinner before we get to eat it.
"Yup." Jennie nods stiffly.
No fewer than three Bentleys are parked in the driveway. There's also a black Ferrari and some obscure European sports car I can't identify. That's almost three million dollars in cars parked out front.
"Am I underdressed?" I feel like a tux would've been more appropriate.
She waves a nervous hand around in the air and smiles almost manically. "Oh no. You're perfect. It's really anything goes."
She parks her crappy SUV, leaving lots of space between it and one of the six-figure cars, and practically throws herself out of the vehicle. She pops the hatch and I help her carry the boxes of cupcakes up the massive staircase—I'm almost out of breath by the time we get to the top.
She shifts her hold on the boxes, which makes me nervous since she seems shaky and more high-strung than usual all of a sudden. I don't want any cupcake casualties. Although if they're ruined they can't be served and then I could bring them home and eat them all.
She punches in a code and the doors open on their own. Andddd…it only gets weirder. Two statues take up the space on either side of the massive entrance. They're naked butlers, and their butler trays are not held up by their hands. More naked statues function as the banisters on the winding staircase with a tacky gold inlay. It's like a Greek mythology museum, a medieval knight, and bad porn slammed into each other, and the result is this strange mash-up. Jennie places the boxes of cupcakes on one of the naked butlers' trays. She tips her head toward the ceiling and murmurs something I don't catch, then takes a deep breath. She smiles stiffly and gives my arm a squeeze. I'm not sure if it's meant to be reassuring for her or me. Or both.
"Hello! I'm here! And I brought a friend with me!" Jennie shouts, her voice echoing off the ceiling of the cavernous open foyer. A butler—an actual fucking butler, dressed in one of those suits with the long tails—appears out of thin air. "Miss Jennie, it's wonderful to have you home today."
"Buster, it's so lovely to see you."
Buster the butler. Classic. I wonder if it's his real name or if they changed it for the alliteration.
He lifts the lid and peeks inside one of the boxes resting on the naked butler statue tray. "Oh! All of my favorites, Miss Jennie. You've outdone yourself."
"One of those boxes is for you and the staff. You might want to hide it so the cupcakes don't all disappear before dinner." She takes the smaller box I'm still holding. "And these are for you to take home."
"You're too good to me." His smile is fond and warm.
She winks. "Not nearly good enough, considering what you put up with on a regular basis."
He laughs. "It's like living on the set of one of Margaret's soap operas." He nods to me. "Welcome to the Kim house, Ms.…"
"Oh, this is my friend, Lisa. All her birds were frozen so I brought her along for dinner." She pats my arm.
The weird phrasing doesn't seem to faze Buster. "Well, keep an eye on her in this house." He winks and strides off.
I'm about to ask her what that means, and why the hell she drives an old SUV when it appears her family has enough money to buy a medium-sized country, but she takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders. "I should mention that my parents are divorced but still friendly with each other."
"So they'll both be here?" I'm starting to wonder what I've gotten myself into.
"Yes, and they're both remarried—"
"Care Jennie! You finally made it! Cocktail hour started at noon!" A woman crosses the expansive, marble foyer. Based on her features, she's most definitely Jennie's mother. Although Jennie is softer around the edges with Marilyn Monroe curves, and her mother looks more like an aging Twiggy. She's also wearing a short, tight and sparkly dress more appropriate for a nightclub. "Oh! I didn't know you were bringing a date! Lawrence, Jennie brought a date!" she calls over her shoulder.
"I'm sorry that you're trapped here with me now. I promise the booze and food will make it worth it," Jennie mutters before her mother pulls her into one of those loose, fake hugs and air kisses both of her cheeks.
Her mother grabs her by the shoulders. "You look tired. I think you're probably working too much. Have you gained weight? I have a great juice detox that will shed some of that baby fat like—" She snaps her fingers beside Jennie's ear, making her jump.
"Mom, I'm almost thirty. The baby fat is here to stay."
"It's all the carbs, honey."
"I like carbs more than I like food deprivation. Anyway, Mom, this is Lisa." She motions to me. "Lisa, this is my mother—"
"—Glinda. Like the good witch from The Wizard of Oz." Her hand shoots out. "Enchanted, I'm sure. And I'm sorry for my terrible manners, but we haven't seen our Care Jennie since the summer. So much catching up to do! How long have you two been dating?"
"She's a friend, Mom. We're not dating."
"Yet?" she asks, hopefully. "When was the last time you had a boyfriend or girlfriend, darling?"
"Not since Jisoo stole the last one," Jennie replies.
"They were better suited for each other." Glinda gives her a patronizing look before she turns her attention back to me and looks me over as if I'm an accessory she's unsure of. "Where did you meet my Care Jennie?"
"I own the bar next door to Buttercream and Booze."
"Next door to what?" Glinda looks confused.
"My café," Jennie mumbles.
"Oh!" Glinda claps her bony hands. "So you're the rival! How fun that you're here."
I glance at Jennie, whose lips are pursed. "Thank you for that, Mom."
"I don't know if I'd call us rivals. I serve beer and wings, and Jennie serves the most delicious cupcakes in the universe." I'm not trying to suck up to her mother, but I am sort of sucking up to Jennie. Mostly because I have a feeling that her relationship with her family is complicated. Her mother has basically called her fat and chastised her on her dating habits. In front of me.
I wonder if Jennie invited me so I'd be a distraction of some kind. Or a shield.
"Hmm, she is quite adept with the buttercream and a spatula." She pinches Jennie's side. "As is evidenced by all the taste testing we must be doing."
A man who looks like Hugh Hefner from two decades ago appears in the foyer. He's wearing a velvet smoking jacket, burgundy silk pants, and black slippers. He's also holding an unlit cigar. "Jennie! We were wondering when you were going to arrive."
"Hi, Uncle Lawrence."
He glides across the room and does the same air-kiss thing as her mother did before he shakes my hand.
"We didn't realize Jennie was bringing a date."
"She's a friend, not a date," Jennie corrects.
"Well, you're introducing her to the family so that must mean you're interested in turning her into your date." He turns to Glinda. "Doesn't it, darling?"
"I would agree, but maybe Care Jennie would prefer to keep that little detail to herself in case Jihyo gets an idea to steal her away."
"I guess that means my cousin made it back from San Francisco for dinner tonight." Jennie smiles tightly.
"You know how she hates missing family events," Lawrence says.
I can't tell if they're joking. Or what's going on, because Jennie's mom is now caressing Lawrence's arm in a way that seems overly friendly for someone who's either supposed to be her brother or her brother-in-law. This whole thing is hella confusing and eye-opening.
"I thought I heard your voice! How's my baby girl?" A balding, potbellied man wearing a white linen suit ambles into the room. He looks more like he's ready for bed than for a Thanksgiving dinner party.
"Hey, Dad!" A huge smile breaks across her face and she opens her arms, wrapping them around his expansive belly.
He kisses her on top of the head and his gaze shifts to me. "You brought a date?"
"She's telling everyone she's just a friend," Glinda supplies.
"Because she doesn't want Jihyo to try to steal her," Lawrence adds.
"It doesn't have anything to do with Jihyo." Jennie tries to defend herself, but is interrupted by yet another woman.
"Care Jennie! Please tell me you brought your cupcakes! Gran-Gran has been asking about them all afternoon!"
"Hi, Aunt Nora. I certainly did." And we go through another round of introductions.
I'm once again confused when Jennie's aunt moves in beside her dad and pats his belly. I can see the physical resemblance between Nora and Glinda, which I'm assuming means they're sisters. Either that or they are uncannily similar.
We're ushered through a massive sitting room, and into the kitchen where everyone dons an apron and returns to whatever station they were at before we arrived. It smells amazing, and the kitchen is insane. It looks like a very high-end restaurant kitchen merged with more gaudy glitz and glamour. Now I need to know what restaurants they actually own, because I'm thinking they must be pretty damn successful if this is their pad.
The sound of mixing, stirring, and chopping is accompanied by orders being given, and in the middle of all of this they're also trying to carry on an actual conversation. It's impossible to follow.
Jennie opens a door and searches through the aprons hanging from a hook until she finds the one she wants. She hugs it to her chest before she pulls it over her head and reaches behind her to tie it.
"I can help with that." I step up and brush her hands out of the way.
She jumps at the contact. "Oh, thanks." She picks out a black apron and hands it to me, returning the favor. She slips her arm through mine, and tugs so I bend until her lips are at my ear. "I meant to tell you before you met them, but my mom is married to my uncle and my aunt is married to my dad."
I turn my head to see whether she's kidding, because that is some next-level fucked-up shit, but don't take into account how close our faces are, so the end of my nose brushes hers.
"Ah ha!" Someone shouts, startling the hell out of us. "I knew it! You were kissing! Lisa is your date."
Jennie drops my arm and takes one excessively large step away from me. "We weren't kissing. I was bringing her up to speed on the family dynamic."
Aunt Nora claps gleefully. "I saw it with my own eyes."
"Then you need new glasses," Jennie grumbles.
The accidental nose brush incites a ridiculous slew of questions, beginning with how long we've been secretly dating, how we met, and whether I've ever been incarcerated. In the very short time I've been here, I come to the conclusion that Jennie's family is entertaining, but definitely a whole bag of WTF with a side of this reminds me of a bad reality show.
Another woman who looks to be a couple of years younger than Jennie glides into the room, a well-dressed man lagging behind her. Everyone looks like they're ready to attend some kind of formal event, apart from her uncle in his Hugh Hefner getup and her dad in his pajama suit.
"Care Jennie! Yay!" She waves her arms in the air like the inflatable balloon guy while she shuffle-runs across the room in her extra high heels and throws her arms around Jennie. She's at least four inches taller and looks like her last good meal was probably five years ago. I don't understand how people who cook food that smells this delicious can be that thin. She does the same thing Jennie's mother did and holds her at arm's length. "This dress is so cute! Have you gained some weight?"
"At least thirty pounds," Jennie deadpans. "Jisoya, this is my friend Lisa. Lisa, this is my younger, more attractive and thinner sister, Jisoya."
"You can call me Jisoo." She giggles, gives me a simpering look, bats her lashes, and holds out her hand.
I shake it, because it's rude not to, and bite my tongue, because all I want to do is defend Jennie and give her hell for not doing it herself when I know for a fact that she's got bigger balls than most men I know.
A tall, somewhat wiry guy slings his arm over Jisoo's shoulder and extends his free hand. "I'm Matthew, Jisoo's husband."
"Lisa."
He's still shaking my hand, but he's not looking at me. His eyes are on Jennie, and the way he's looking at her seems really inappropriate. "Ballsy move, bringing a date with Jihyo on the rebound."
She rolls her eyes. "Jihyo is always on the rebound."
Jisoo chuckles and claps her hands together. "This is going to be so much fun!"
As if on cue, another very thin woman enters the kitchen, wearing a club-appropriate minidress and holding a half-empty martini glass. Her gaze hones in on Jennie and a slightly evil smile tips up the corner of her mouth.
"Care Jennie!" Her voice is high-pitched, like nails on a chalkboard. She saunters over, the sway of her hips highly exaggerated as she crosses the room. Instead of taking the most direct route to Jennie, which would be to go around Jisoo, she slides her chest along Matthew's bicep, gives me a very blatant once-over, and then air kisses Jennie's cheeks. "Your dress is so cute! It makes your waist look so narrow!"
Sweet baby Jesus riding a skateboard down a freeway without a helmet, Jennie's family is a bunch of assholes.
"And your dress makes you look like you belong in the red light district," Jennie says through gritted teeth and a brittle smile.
"That's exactly where I got it!" She turns to me. "And who might your delicious friend be?"
Jennie introduces me tonelessly to Jihyo, the cousin on the rebound everyone seems to think is going to try to steal me. Based on the way she presses her entire body against mine and kisses me on both cheeks, I'm inclined to believe it wasn't a joke.
The last person I'm introduced to is Jennie's Gran-Gran. I'm relieved when all she does is shake my hand and tell Jennie she's so happy she could make it for dinner and that they need to schedule a proper lunch date so she can whup Jennie's ass at gin rummy—those are her exact words.
I'm offered a drink and Jennie mutters that I should definitely take it, even though she declines the alcohol, citing that she'll have to drive home later.
"You two can always stay the night." Jihyo dons an apron, grabs me by the arm, leads me over to the kitchen island, and pushes me onto one of the high-back stools. "Let's all get to know each other!" She picks up a knife and starts chopping carrots into thin discs without even looking at what she's doing.
"How's your little bakeshop doing, Jennie?" her uncle asks as he stirs some kind of sauce. Jennie is drinking ginger ale and whisking something in a bowl—at least two people suggested sparkling water or a diet variety of soda. I want to punch everyone in the room out, apart from Gran-Gran, who hasn't said anything mean. Yet.
"My little bakeshop is doing fine, thanks for asking."
I glance over at her—she's standing on my right, keeping an eye on Jihyo, whose arm keeps bumping mine she's so freaking close.
"It's actually doing amazing," I interject.
I stretch my arm across the back of the stool and angle my body toward Jennie and away from Jihyo. Whatever the reason I'm here—whether as a distraction for her crazy-ass family or because she honestly felt bad that my day was shot and I would be spending Thanksgiving alone—I decide I'm going to play the role of the girlfriend everyone thinks I am tonight, if for no other reason than to keep Jihyo from humping my leg while her family watches.
"Awww, isn't that so lovely to hear." Her mother's tone is patronizing at best. "Well, you know that there's always a place for you back here if you get tired of the grueling hours. It must be hard to make a living on five-dollar cupcakes."
"People buy them by the dozen. You've all been by to see it, haven't you?" I ask, which gets me a swift elbow to the ribs.
"Oh no, Jennie made it seem like it wasn't a trip we needed to make with our busy schedules." Her mother smiles, but I can't quite read the emotion behind it. Indulgent? Hurt? Accusatory?
"Really, Jennie?" I can't bring myself to add Care in front of it. It's the worst fucking nickname in the history of the universe. It's condescending and it doesn't fit her at all. Alice, which is terrible in its own right considering the implications, is still a million times better. "I can't believe you haven't invited your family down for the full Buttercream and Booze experience."
"They're busy," she says through clenched teeth.
I should probably back off, but I'm pretty pissed off at how little regard her family seems to have for her and what she's accomplished, apparently all on her own. I also don't like that the strong, in your face, demanding, combative woman who I thoroughly enjoy riling up is just…taking their shit.
I reach out and pull Jennie into my side and make a show of pressing my lips to her temple. Neither of us expects the static-like shock that accompanies what should be a very innocent display of affection—were we actually dating. She grabs my thigh and I breathe "Sorry" in her ear.
Even though I'm not. And that becomes even more obvious when I say, "But not too busy to celebrate their daughter's accomplishments."
"Of course not," her father jumps in, sending a hard look my way. "We didn't want to push ourselves on Jennie. She has her own way of doing things and we don't want to step on her toes."
Gran-Gran Calloway, who reminds me of a younger Betty White during the Golden Girls era and is clearly senile, jumps into the conversation to ask when Jennie's due. I decide I need a break from the crazy before I tell someone off on Jennie's behalf.
"Sweetheart, can you show me where the bathroom is?"
"I can show you!" Jihyo's knife clatters on the counter and she grabs my free arm.
I don't even look in Jihyo's direction when I respond. "Thanks, but Jennie can take care of me." Yes, I mean for it to sound 100 percent suggestive.
I stand up and extend my hand. Jennie has no choice but to take it, unless she wants to make more of a scene. She leads me out of the kitchen, down a hallway, passing three doors before she finally stops. I push it open and take the opportunity for what it is by pulling her inside and closing her in with me.
The light isn't on, though, so we're submerged in darkness.
"What're you doing?" Her voice is all pitchy.
"What are you doing?" I slap around on the wall, trying to find a switch.
Half a second later we're both blinded by light. "Showing you where the bathroom is." Her gaze bounces all over the room.
As does mine, but for very different reasons. "What the hell is going on in here?" Everything is gold. The wallpaper, the vanity, the sink, even the toilet. The floor, however, is black marble and reflective.
"My family is eclectic," she replies, not defensively, but matter-of-factly.
"Is this real gold? Actually, don't answer that, I don't want to know." I motion toward the door. "Why am I here?"
"Because I invited you, which in hindsight may not have been the best idea, at least not without some preparation. I'm used to my family, so I forget how crazy they really are." I've never seen Jennie quite so fidgety.
I give her a look that tells her I think that's utter bullshit.
She throws her hands in the air. "Okay, I didn't forget that they were crazy, but I felt bad that you didn't have plans for Thanksgiving and no one should be alone on the holidays, so it was kind of a kneejerk reaction to invite you along. It wasn't until we were on the way here that I really considered what it would be like for you, and me, frankly."
"Right, okay. So what's the deal with Jihyo?"
"She's harmless."
"She's a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen."
"She's actually a total professional at work. She just enjoys getting under my skin and putting on a show."
I point a finger at her. "Your job tonight is to keep her away from me."
"I can try, but she's persistent."
"And what the hell is with you letting your family treat you like garbage?"
"They don't treat me like garbage."
And there's the defensiveness I've been waiting for. "Your little bakeshop? When you get tired of the grueling hours you can work for the family? And they haven't even come out to see your place." I don't know why I'm so pissed off about this. Maybe because I know how hard she works? I'm always fighting to keep up. I'm lucky that college kids are willing to pay money for things like throwing axes.
"It's better they don't interfere. Otherwise I'll have to start serving hundred-dollar kobe beef cupcakes."
I make a face because that sounds disgusting. Although she did make a Guinness and bacon cupcake that nearly killed me, it was that good, and I really expected to hate it. "Since when do you let other people dictate your actions?"
"I don't; that's the point."
"But they should see how hard you work."
Jennie sighs. "Look, Lisa, your irritation on my behalf is endearing, but you don't know what you're saying. You've spent less than half an hour with them and we're already locked in a bathroom together and you have a million questions. Which I will answer. Later. On the drive home. But for now I need you to trust me when I say I do not want my family visiting BB because it will inevitably mean they will try to take over. They are well-meaning but insane."
I stare at her for several long seconds, digesting, accepting. "You are spilling the beans on the drive home."
"There probably won't be much to spill by the time we leave, but sure." She shrugs and turns to open the door.
I stop her from leaving by pressing my palm against it. "Hold up."
She sighs and her shoulders curl forward. "Can't it wait?"
"What's the deal with Matthew?"
She doesn't turn around, but her head drops and she seems to deflate even further. "We used to date."
"Excuse me?"
"We dated. It didn't work out. He married my sister. Oh, and I think Jihyo slept with him, too, before they started dating, but then she's done that a few times with various boyfriends, so sometimes it's hard to keep track."
"Wait. What? Jihyo slept with your ex-boyfriend before your sister stole him from you?" I feel like my head is going to explode from this information.
"Yeah. Can I go now, please, before we get accused of grabbing a pre-dinner quickie in the bathroom?"
I lift my hand from the door, and she slips out without another word.
Jennie's offhand mention of a quickie is apparently an appealing idea to my man parts, so it takes me a minute to calm down before I'm able to relieve myself.
As I wait I decide two things: I'm not drinking any more alcohol tonight and I'm going to play up being Jennie's girlfriend for the rest of our time here. It's not like her family is going to see me again. I might as well leave them with one hell of a lasting impression.
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