"Ignore her," Jordan said. "Bernadette, I mean. Not Grandmama. You'll want to listen to her." He tweaked my father's cheek. "I'd hate to see you bent over the sink with amouthful." He waggled his eyebrows at him, scratching lightly at his beard. Preston scoffed and slapped his hand away.
"Stop that. Stop it," Preston said.
"First off!" Brenda/Carole said, trying to regain everyone’s attention. "We're going to need something to set the mood. If we're going to expect them to believe this, we'll need to build up your chemistry."
"Who's chemistry?" Rivers asked.
"Yours," she clarified, flicking her finger between Rivers and me. "Honestly, I wasn't too sure about the pairing. I mean, Phil is a global superstar—"
"A what?" Jordan asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I was in the biggest selling boy band of the early-aughties," I reminded him, though I wasn't sure why he kept needing reminding.
"Yep," Preston said. "And are no longer. What happened there?"
"My ex-boyfriend cheated on me, left the band, and then used a twenty-year-old, botched TRL performance as ammunition to not ask me back for the reunion. That's what fucking happened. Do you want to know what'saboutto happen, Preston? I'm filing a petition for emancipation. Today." I declared. "Honest to God, it's just one insult after another with you."
"Don't listen to him, Daddy," Jordan said, but my father just winced, scooting a few inches away from Jordan. Jordy must have seen that as my father was playing hard to get, because he followed right behind him, bouncing over on the sofa until their knees knocked.
"So," Brenda/Carole said with a commanding voice, "if we're going to make this romance believable, we're going to need everyone on board. Everyone in this room needs to treat their relationship like it's real."
"Romance?" Aunt Lurlene held her hand to her heart. "Sun and stars. It sure would be nice to see you with a boyfriend, Turnip," Aunt Lurlene cooed. "I've been hoping and praying for it for years. My little baby boy with his heart of gold, and an empty dance card." She smiled at me. "I worry about you. All alone in that mansion of yours. You need someone to love you the way you deserve."
"I'm not sure what a dance card is, but Phillip's had plenty of boyfriends," Jordan said, springing up from his seat with a hop. He made his way over to Aunt Lurlene's side and plopped down on the floor, resting his arms on her knee and smiling up at her. "Phillip loves love." Her hand was still clutching her heart, and for a moment, I thought I spotted a tear forming in her eye. "There was Terry. You would have loved him, Grandmama. I wasn't sold on the idea of him dating a married man at first, but I came around."
Suddenly, every eye in the room was on me, and Preston's mouth was gaping. "A married man? So, you're a homewrecker now?"
"It wasn't cheating. They had a polyamorous relationship—and I don't have to justify a damn thing to you, thank you very much," I said.
"That's true," Jordan said, meeting Preston's gaze. "The polyamorous part. Not what he said about you." When my father smiled at him, Jordan blushed so brightly, I thought it might permanently stain his cheeks. "Then there was the guy who wanted to help him convert."
"Fuck a duck, and screw a canoe. Dammit, Jordan," I said.
"How does one screw a canoe, exactly?" Jordan said.
"Convert?" Aunt Lurlene said, squeezing Jordan's hand. "Did he try to get him to become…" She peered around the room before leaning down, whispering, "a Catholic?" She shook her head, and when our eyes met, I could see nothing but her shame reflecting back. "Oh, Turnip. No. I'm an open-minded woman, but I draw the line at Catholicism."
"What's wrong with being a Catholic?" Rivers said.
"Aside from the chaste lifestyle they expect homosexuals to lead, there's all of that kneeling and standing and sitting they make you do. It's terribly taxing on the knees. I won't stand idly by and watch as he gives himself a hernia for the Lord of lords. If he's dead-set on forming a relationship with our Almighty, I'll take him down to Tallulah Episcopalian on Sunday, but that's as far as I'm willing to budge."
"To being straight," I interrupted, desperate to right this derailing train. "He wanted me to convert to being straight."
"Why the heck would your boyfriend want you to become straight?" Rivers asked.
"He had a conversion kink."
"That's…" Rivers drew his brows together, and a look of absolute disgust washed over his face. "That's a thing?"
"It was for him."
"How does dating a gay man… None of this makes sense, Firecracker. I don't think gay men turning themselves straight is a thing. Did he try to send you to one of those conversion camps?" His jaw tensed. "Did he?"
"Why are you so invested in this story?" I asked. "Calm down, Rambo."
His right eyelid twitched. "Did he tell you to pray it away? You can't. It doesn't work like that."
I rolled my eyes. "Obviously. I'm not some religious extremist, Rivers."