Page 173 of Unhinged

“Just friends. I didn’t want to listen to you whine all night, hag.”

Dad says, “All right. Let’s not fight at dinner.” When have we not?

I glance at Simone, who still doesn’t scoop her jaw from her plate. Double motherfucker.

As food makes its rounds, Dad says, “I’ve been doing some genealogy.”

Still glaring at my sisters, I take the minimum of Sherry’s garbage casserole and move it to my dad, who always eats half of the damn thing. She’d better not talk Simone into carrying on the obnoxious tradition.

Damn. Simone is my family now too. It’s still staggering.

Ashley says, “Tell Greg what you found about Lizette.”

I catch Simone looking back at her plate. I miss her, and she’s across the damn table.

“What about her?”

Dad frowns at us before getting excited again. “Well, since I was doing mine and Sherry’s families, I threw in your mother’s. I know her grandparents and great-grandparents. Well, I didn’t know about her great-great-grandparents.”

I shrug. “Okay. Were they serial killers? That’d be cool.”

Tabby scoffs, “That’s horrible.”

“So are you.”

Dad says, “Knock it off. So, your great-great-grandparents weren’t from this country.”

“I assumed that. I thought they were Lebanese or some shit.”

Sherry scolds, “Language. Dinner table.” I roll my eyes, and she narrows hers. It’s a dinner song and dance as old as time.

Tabby laughs. “Lesbian? Oh, dang!”

I struggle not to laugh but say, “That’s not what I said, genius.” It was pretty funny, though.

Dad says, “Yes. But her maternal great-grandparents came from Barcelona.”

As I process that, Tabby shrieks, “OMG, you’re Hispanic, señor!”

“Uh… Okay? That’s it? Anyone famous?” Holy fuck. I have something in common with Tesco. I think he’s Cuban or whatever, but close enough that I want to scream.

“Your mom suspected it for years, but I confirmed it. There’s a long line of Spaniards, so it’s not an off thing. So, yeah. You’re Spanish.” Good God. It’s not bad, just shakes up who I thought I was and where I came from.

“I’m a Spanish-Lebanese Jew. Alrighty, then.”

Dad adds, “You’re Polish, French, and German too.”

Tabby says, “Your kids will also be Spanish Lesbians.”

I scowl at her but laugh as I snap, “Shut up, doofus.”

“So sorry, A-hole.”

Sherry says, “Hey! No one is either of those things, damn it!”

Simone glances at me but then back to her plate. I notice she’s not eating.

Tabby turns to her. “Where does your family come from, Simone?”

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