"Do you have Dr. Pepper?" Bert called out. I saw Wes shoot him a look. "I mean, no thanks."
Kristy smiled, running her finger along the top of the island. "Look at this, it's so cool. Like it has little diamonds in it. What's this called?"
"I don't know," I said.
"Corian," Wes told her, peering over her shoulder.
"Everything here is so nice," Kristy said emphatically, looking around the kitchen. "If Stella ever gets her fill of me, I'm moving in with Macy. She's got five bedrooms. I'd even sleep in that powder room. I bet it's nicer than my whole doublewide."
"It's not," I said.
From the living room, I could hear an announcer on the TV, speaking in a deep, important-sounding voice: "This is the future. This is our fate. This is Update: Armageddon."
"Come on you guys, it's on!" Bert yelled.
"Bert, use your inside voice," Kristy told him, turning on her stool to look out the sliding glass doors at the backyard. "Wow! Monica, are you seeing this deck out here? And the pool?"
"Umm-hmm," Monica replied.
"Monica loves pools," Kristy told me. "She's like a freaking fish, you can't get her out of the water. Me, I'm more of a lie-by-the-pool-drinking-something-with-an-umbrella-in-it kind of girl."
I took a few cans of Coke out of the fridge, then pulled some glasses out of the cabinet, filling them with ice. Kristy was now flipping through a Southern Living my sister had left behind during her last stay, while Wes stood at the back glass doors, checking out the backyard. With the noise from the TV, and everyone there, I was suddenly aware of how quiet and still my house was normally. Just the addition of so many people breathing gave it a totally different feel, some sort of palpable energy that was never there otherwise.
"I," Delia announced as she came down the hallway, her flip-flops smacking the tile floor, "feel so much better. Never would I have imagined that peeing could make me so happy."
From the TV, the announcer bellowed, "What do you think will bring… the end of the world?"
"From the looks of it," Kristy said, flipping a page, "I'd put my money on this room decorated entirely in gingham. I mean, it's just hideous."
"Macy?"
I jumped, startled. It was my mother, pulling a gotcha all her own. As I turned around, my heart thumping in my chest, I saw her standing in the open archway that led to the hallway to her office, file folder in hand. She'd been here the entire time.
"Mom," I said, too quickly. "Hi."
"Hi," she replied, but she wasn't looking at me, her eyes instead moving across the room to take in Bert and Monica in front of the TV, Wes by the back doors, Delia making her way over to the couch and, finally, Kristy, her head still bent over the magazine. "I thought I heard voices."
"We just got here." I watched as she came into the room, sliding the file onto the counter. "I invited everyone in to watch this show. I hope that's okay."
"Of course it is," she said. Her voice sounded up, cheery, forced. Fake. "I've been wanting to meet your new friends."
Hearing this, Kristy lifted up her head, sitting up straighten "Kristy Palmetto," she said, sticking out her hand.
My mother, businesswoman that she was, reached for the hand first. Then she took her first good look at Kristy's face and saw the scars. "Oh… hello," she said, stumbling slightly on the second word. She recovered quickly, though, as I knew she would, and the next thing she said was smooth, absolutely not affected. "I've heard a lot about you from Macy. It's so nice to meet you."
"You have a beautiful home," Kristy told her. She patted the island. "I especially love this Coreal."
"Corian," Wes corrected from behind her.
"Right." Kristy smiled at my mother, who was doing that thing where you try to look everywhere but where your eyes are drawn naturally. Luckily, Kristy, in her black velvet shirt and short skirt, wearing full makeup, with her hair piled up on her head, offered plenty of other options. "It's just gorgeous. Anyway, I told Macy if she's not careful I'm moving in here. I heard you have extra bedrooms."
My mother laughed politely, then glanced at me. I smiled, noting how forced it felt, like my lips weren't covering my teeth enough. This was the way I always used to smile, I thought. When I had to work at it.
"Mom," I said, nodding toward Wes as he turned around from the glass doors, "this is Wes."
"Hi," Wes said.
"And you know Delia," I said, gesturing to where she was sitting on the couch.
"Of course! How are you?" my mother said.
"Very pregnant," Delia called back, smiling. "But other than that, fine."
"She's due any second," I explained, and when my mother looked slightly alarmed I added, "I mean, any day. And that's Bert, and next to him is Monica."
"Hello," my mother called out, as Bert and Monica waved hello, "nice to meet you."
"Have you heard," the announcer on the TV bellowed, "the Big Buzz?"
"Bert really wanted to watch this show," I explained. "It's, um, about theories."
"Crackpot theories," Kristy said.