Page 27 of Shake the Spirit

Kissing her softly, I walk that way toward the sliding front doors. I learn quickly how love has dulled my instincts. I never see the next fate-thrown speedbump coming.

“Don’t run!” Tuesday announces, startling my lips from Oana’s.

Realizing the lobby is filled with my people, I step protectively in front of Oana. I even consider having us make a run for freedom. If she weren’t so queasy, I bet we’d escape into the night before any of my cousins could tackle us.

“Stop helping him,” Edith growls and shoves Tuesday.

Our cousin flips her blonde hair over her shoulder and announces, “I believe the best love is mentally unsound.”

I ignore Tuesday’s semi-helpful words and look at my parents. Pa-Donovan’s dark hair is slicked back, and his blue eyes are filled with worry. He’s wearing his Rawkfist vest, like my uncles and cousins. Are they here on official business or just trying to remind me of my responsibilities?

Ma-Journey is a vision, as usual. Her dark blonde hair is tied back, mimicking pa’s. Her blue eyes hide none of her irritation and anxiety. She’s wearing one of her sleeveless tops to show off her buff arms.

Next to them is a softer version of ma. Edith owns our mother’s eyes and our dad’s brown hair. She’s definitely got her resting bitch face on as she shakes her head and judges me.

Despite how grumpy they all look, I’m a little relieved to see them. My favorite people should be part of my happiness. That’s why I smile and step aside to gesture at Oana.

“Ma, Pa, Edith, this is my dream girl. Oana, these are my parents, Donovan and Journey, and my sister. I’m glad we could do this,” I say and wrap an arm around her tight shoulders. “Maybe we can visit the homestead tomorrow, so everyone can get to know each other.”

“You’re coming home now, mister,” Ma-Journey says, winning snickers from her troublemaking sisters nearby.

“Mister?” Auntie Justice asks Poppy.

“It’s been, like, two days,” replies the youngest blonde sister. “Who wouldn’t treat their son like a stranger?”

“I’m punching someone,” Ma-Journey declares without looking back at her sisters. “I don’t care which one of you it is.”

“Pick Justice!” Auntie Poppy cries. “My kids will be sad if I’m in pain. She’s currently childless.”

Unhappy to be reminded how her three kids are currently out of town, Justice shoves Poppy and growls, “I’m punchingyou.”

Snapping her fingers, the front clerk barks, “No roughhousing!”

Everyone turns to her, but she refuses to back down.

“Don’t bully us, employee,” Tuesday mutters and snaps her fingers.

“I know your antics, Tuesday Mercer.”

My cousin gasps. “How dare you expect me to remember who you are, peon!”

“We sat next to each other throughout high school.”

Tuesday narrows her blue eyes and asks, “Pete?”

The woman glares. “I’m glad you found a husband for the bun you’ve clearly got baking in your oven.”

Tuesday gasps and staggers backward, horrified anyone would think her large lunch was anything more than a burger baby.

Nearby, her stepdaughter, Roxie, and West’s redheaded wife, Alexis, yank popcorn from their purses and find seats.

“Speaking of ugly babies,” Edith mutters, gaining a gasp from Tuesday, who’s close to needing her fainting couch, “is this one knocked up?”

“Is your question directed at me?” I ask my sister, who keeps glaring at Oana.

To my surprise, my queasy dream girl snarls back, “I’ll puke on you, so pace yourself, Edith.”

My sister glares at me. “You’ve taught her to be bitchy.”

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