“I am. I’m thinking that I might like to move in the direction of cardiac care as a specialty.”
Nana patted his hand. “Imagine. A heart surgeon in the family.” She beamed.
“Well, I don’t know about surgeon, but I’ll sure try.”
Everyone seemed impressed. I was too, but wasn’t that a lot more years of study? When was my best friend going to get a chance at going to college? I knew Joey was using some of their parents’ life insurance for tuition. Would there be any money left when Keri Ann wanted to go?
We chatted and ate burgers and then finally Nana was too tired to stay out any longer.
“We still going to the bonfire?” asked Keri Ann as we got up from the table.
“Damn straight,” I replied. “Remember, we’re pretending this is my birthday party. I won’t have time to do anything tomorrow. I have housekeeping in the morning, and my first official stint on beach patrol in the afternoon. Wish me luck.”
“Luck.” Keri Ann scrunched her nose.
“I won’t be good for shit by the time that’s over.” I sighed. “Then I still have to do a few hours in the boutique with Faith from five ‘til eight. This is a huge weekend for her.”
“I know. I’m on lunch and dinner shift tomorrow at The Snapper Grill. Okay, so tonight it is!” She leaned in. “I persuaded Joey to get us some booze,” she whispered. “And he’s going to drink with us.”
“Serious?” I asked.
We pulled ahead of the group.
Joe was helping Nana maneuver a path through the tables and chairs. “I bet that went over well,” I said. “Mr. Super responsible wants to get buzzed with us?”
“Well, let’s put it this way. I told him he wasn’t invited unless he got drunk with us. We can ride bikes to the beach so it’s not like we have to have a designated driver.”
“Joey’s not going to stay sober so he can be a buzzkiller later? I’ll believe that when I see it.”
Seeing Joseph cutting loose for a little bit was definitely going to be unmissable entertainment. A thrill went through me. I knew how much kissing I could get him to do when his inhibitions were lowered. Like last night on the boat, for example.
We approached the turn off for our apartment. “So I guess I’ll meet you at the beach. Makes more sense than coming to your place first.”
SOON AS WE got home, my mom started to get changed.
“Where are you going, Mom?”
She paused and looked at me through her open bedroom door. “Honestly, Jessica, I don’t think you really want to know.”
Dammit. My hands clenched and unclenched. A mild panicky feeling clawed at my chest. “You’re right. I don’t.” I folded my arms and came to stand in her doorway as she turned back to her dresser. “God, Mom, is it too much to ask that you just find your own man and not somebody else’s? It’s humiliating.”
“It’s got nothing to do with you. How is it even humiliating?”
“Joey suspects. I hope you know that.”
“You haven’t said anything, have you?” she asked.
“Of course not, Mom. Unlike you I think about other people before I do stuff.” I spit out the words. “I’m hardly going to tell Joey in case he has to see or speak to Dr. Barrett’s family. Can you imagine how awful he’ll feel? No,” I answered my own question, my voice rising. “I’m sure you can’t. Because if you were able to think of anyone else, you’d never put us all in this position.”
I walked into the bathroom.
“Hey, I was going to shower,” Mom called.
“Too damn bad, Mom. Apparently, we just do what we like in this family without thinking of each other, and I’m showering first.” I slammed the door.
My God, I’d slammed the door twice this week. I would have thought by the time I turned eighteen I’d be over doing that as a way to express my frustration. Well, I guessed I got an extra one in just under the wire.
I’d styled my hair that morning because it was graduation day, so now I clipped it out the way and took a quick shower. I moisturized from top to bottom with vanilla-scented lotion and then applied some light make up and mascara. Unclipping my hair, I shook out the loose waves, satisfied that I felt pretty without having tried to hard. It was infuriating that Joey was front and center of my consciousness in every single one of my beauty rituals. I even argued with mental Joseph about wearing the short sundress vs. the shorts. Dress, he said. Shorts, I argued. I didn’t ask his opinion when I chose my nicest bra and panties. It was none of his business. But it didn’t stop him folding his arms and raising an eyebrow. I was losing it, seriously. He’d turned me into a certifiable nut job.
I slipped back into the bathroom recently freed up by my mother. My phone was blowing up in the back pocket of my shorts. I quickly brushed on some metallic bronzer and used a metallic gold arm band tattoo I’d been saving for a special occasion.
“Jessica, are you done in the bathroom?”
I flung open the door. “Yes,” I huffed. “Have fun with Dr. Barrett.”
“You look lovely,” she said as I wafted past her. “Where are you going?”
“Honestly, Mom, it’s probably best if you don’t know.”