Good for them, she thought, telling herself not to get into a funk about it. She would find her own guy eventually. She had to stay positive.
Lost in her own thoughts, she barely noticed that the odd sound was repeated again. Even as she registered that it was more a moan than a word, she walked into the kitchen to find her mother with Max Thurman.
Naked.
On the kitchen table.
Having sex.
It was one of those moments that slowed time. She felt as if she were underwater, unable to move quickly, or even breathe. The image burned itself onto her brain. She shrieked and covered her eyes, but it was too late.
“Nevada!”
“I’m sorry,” Nevada yelled and ran away as fast as she could. She made it outside, where she stood in the center of the lawn, trying to catch her breath.
“No, no, no!”
Closing her eyes didn’t help, nor did humming. Whatever she did, she could still see them doing it.
“What’s going on?”
She saw her sisters hurrying toward her and she ran in the other direction. They chased her down the street.
“Stop it!” Montana yelled. “Dakota’s pregnant. She can’t run after you.”
That brought Nevada to a stop, but she couldn’t face them.
“Oh, God, it’s horrible. I’m going to need therapy for the rest of my life.”
Her sisters surrounded her, looking worried.
“What happened?” Dakota asked, grabbing her arm. “Are you sick?”
Nevada pointed back at the house. “In there. On the table.”
Montana went pale. “Did something happen to Mom?”
Nevada waved her hands. “She’s fine. I can’t. Don’t make me say it.”
She thought of kittens and chocolate and boats. She wondered if there were aliens on Mars, then gave in to the inevitable and allowed the theme from “It’s a Small World” to fill her brain, but even that didn’t help.
Dakota shook her. “Will you please tell us what’s going on?”
“I saw Mom having sex with Max. On the kitchen table.” She shrieked the words, then covered her face again. “I can’t get it out of my head.”
She dropped her hands and saw her sisters looking at each other. Montana’s mouth began to twitch.
“It’s not funny,” Nevada insisted. “We’ve had breakfast at that table. Decorated cookies, done our homework there. How can I ever face her again?”
“I think that’s more her problem than yours,” Dakota told her. “Wow—I can’t believe Mom was having sex with Max. I guess he is the guy in the tattoo.”
Their mother had the name Max tattooed on her hip.
“I’m having more trouble with the Max part than the Mom part,” Montana admitted. “He’s my boss. This could be complicated.”
“I can never go back,” Nevada moaned. “I grew up in that house. I love that house. I can never go in there again. Or talk to my mother.”
“You’ll recover,” Dakota told her, sounding much too calm and way too amused.
“You don’t actually know that. You’re guessing.”
“I’m a professional. Trust me. You’ll be fine.”
“I wonder if electroshock therapy would work,” Nevada muttered, thinking whatever pain was involved would be worth it. Not that she didn’t love her mom and want her to be happy, but did she have to do it on the kitchen table?
“They’re old. Shouldn’t they be worried about their joints and stuff?” she asked. “Wouldn’t a bed be better? It wouldn’t have been so shocking in a bed.”
“I think it’s impressive,” Montana announced. “When was the last time you had sex on the kitchen table?”
“I can’t remember the last time I had sex.” Nevada sighed. She was simply going to have to accept she was emotionally scarred.
She started toward the center of town. Her sisters fell into step beside her.
“Do you think a latte will help me forget more than ice cream?” she asked.
“How about a mocha Frappuccino?” Dakota patted her on the shoulder. “The best of both worlds.”
“Perfect.”
“It’s really very sweet,” Dakota began.
Nevada stopped her with a look. “Don’t go there. You’re not the one who saw it. Until you’ve stared into the eyes of your mother having sex on the kitchen table, you don’t get an opinion. Got that?”
“You bet.”
“I’ll bet Max has a great butt,” Montana said conversationally. “Not that I want to think about it too much, but he takes care of himself.”
Dakota grinned. “I’m sure he does.”
“I hate you both,” Nevada muttered.
They hugged her. “You can’t hate us,” Montana said, kissing her cheek. “We have your DNA.”
“I want it back.”
Her sisters laughed and reluctantly she joined in. She’d always known there were ups and downs with having a big family. Pluses and minuses. This was a really big minus she was going to have to get over.
She linked arms with her sisters. “All right. Enough of my emotional trauma. What did you two want to talk to me about?”