Page 28 of Shake the Spirit

“No, she was always wild,” I murmur and smile at Oana. “I just helped her release her righteous feelings.”

“Not to interrupt,” Ma-Journey mutters, stepping between her children and sighing with enough drama to do her family proud. “But, Ike, you need to come home, so we can sort shit out.”

“We’ve already paid for the night.”

“Then tomorrow,” Pa-Donovan says while Uncle Emmett, Uncle Court, and Tuesday’s husband, Burke “Bullet Train” Sabian, watch the action without the benefit of popcorn.

“No, you’re coming home tonight,” Ma-Journey insists.

Sliding my hand down Oana’s spine so she’ll focus on me rather than my ma’s cranky expression, I point out, “It’d be wasteful not to use the room.”

Tuesday steps forward. “How about they go home while Bullet and I honeymoon in their room?”

“They’re only double beds,” snarks the clerk. “I’m not sure your bump can fit.”

Tuesday stomps her foot and glares at the woman. “Stop calling me fat!”

“Get out of the lobby.”

“I will never leave!” Tuesday declares full of fury, even throwing her hair around like she’s suffering through a rage seizure. “If the police arrive to escort me to jail, I’ll just break free with my Herculean strength and hide. Maybe I’ll crawl under a couch cushion. Then, when you’re not looking, I’ll jump out and kick you in the ass.”

“Stop bogarting my ma’s rage!” Edith yells at Tuesday.

“Sorry, psycho,” Tuesday grumbles in her bestie’s face, “but I support your brother’s need to seduce that sweet church chick. Besides, he can’t go home yet anyway.”

“Why?”

“Her cherry remains intact!” Tuesday cries dramatically and points horrified at us.

Oana frowns at me. “I told you we should have done it already.”

“Don’t you want to know how I could tell?” Tuesday asks Oana.

“I figured it was from all your sexual experience.”

Edith snorts. “Even the church mouse can tell you’re a swamp whore.”

“My feelings are hurt,” Tuesday mumbles as she shuffles over to sit between Roxie and Alexis. “I shall become nothing more than a lame observer.”

“I feel guilty now,” Oana tells me before pointing at Edith. “Wait, I didn’t call her a mean name. It was you.”

As much as my boner digs when my dream girl embraces her inner bitch, I know she stands zero chance against Edith. Twenty-six years of practice has honed my sister’s skills. Meanwhile, Oana’s an infant bitch, still wobbly, as she steps forward to throw shade.

My ma grabs my face and makes me look at her. “Why are you doing this?”

“My ghost is real.”

“She’s a stranger.”

“Shewasa stranger. We’ve gotten to know each other now. She’s as magical as when we were in the woods.”

Oana smiles at me while Edith rolls her eyes. “This is unacceptable. I won’t have it.”

“And that’s why I can’t bring Oana home,” I say, staring into my ma’s eyes and trying to use my son powers to make her bend. “Oana won’t be treated right. It’s why I’m hiding at the hotel. In fact, we might even need to live off the homestead.”

Okay, I’m bluffing with that last part.Based on Edith’s strangled gasp and stagger backward, my tactic works. Ma-Journey is less sure. The woman’s a bullshit detector. She stares into my eyes in the way she does with my pa when she isn’t sure if he’s being square with her.

Holding her gaze, I explain, “People get very few chances in life to be truly happy. A wrong choice can lead to a lifetime of regret. Why would you want that for me?”

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