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“We have company!” he exclaims.
“This is my sister, Martha,” Mom says icily.
Aunt Marty reaches her arms out to greet Mr. Arthur
and, I swear, he looks at her boobs and blushes. He extends
one speckled hand and says, “Enchanté.”
“Call me Marty,” Aunty Marty says, ignoring the handshake
and hugging him. “We’re practically family.”
Mr. Arthur just grins. I can tell he hasn’t heard a word.
“You can’t barge in here and disrupt our lives, Martha,”
Mom shouts. Then she stomps out of the room . . . except,
in her slippers, it’s more like messy scuffling. Me, I can only
think of one thing to say.
“Water?”
Mr. Arthur seems to hear me because he says, “Don’t
mind if I do.” Bizarrely, he takes the whole tray from me
and shuffles after my mother into the kitchen. Really, the
two of them are made for each other.
Aunt Marty looks at me and shrugs. “I wasn’t really
thirsty.”
I laugh. My aunt enfolds me in her arms and says, “Now
sit next to your auntie and tell her all about Perry and this
perfect girl who thinks she stands a chance.”
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