*
It took us a while to manage the stairwell and hallway, which had to be the longest in the vast Marriott chain. Every few feet, Mindy sat down on the floor and had another acidlike revelation. (“Indoor carpeting is nice. Think about it, I mean it’s nice.”) When we finally made it into my room, she stumbled over to the queen-size bed and fell on it, face-first.
“Take off your shirt!”
“That’s what that guy at the bar said,” Karen said.
“That’s why I did it,” Mindy said.
Karen flopped down next to Mindy, but at least had the good sense to stay on her back. Both girls had puke on their fronts.
“Take your shirts off. Both of you.”
They sat up obediently and pulled off their tops while I rifled through my bags. “Put these on.” I handed them each a T-shirt and watched as they wrestled with them. Karen was trying to force her head through the arm sleeve.
“For God’s sake, how much did you drink?” I helped untangle her, then threw their shirts in the tub, rinsed out my mouth, and returned with two clean washrags.
“Sit up. Both of you. Sit up.” I started in on Mindy first, wiping her face and doing the best I could with her hair. “What did you drink?”
“Tequila,” Mindy said.
“Anything else? Anything else?”
“More tequila,” Karen said.
“Yeah, that’s right. That was it. Tequila, and then we had more tequila. They go good together.”
I kept at Mindy’s face. “Where did you go?”
“Pinky’s,” Karen said. “Down the street.”
“How did you get there? I know you didn’t drive.”
“We used, you know, our feet to get there,” Karen said. “Our feet.”
“We walked.”
“Right, that’s the word I was searching for. So good with words, are you.”
I moved over to Karen, scrubbing down her cheeks and chin and neck. Then I propped them up with pillows, made them each drink a full glass of water, and pulled a chair close to the bed.
“What are you doing?” Mindy asked.
“Just close your eyes and try to sleep.”
“You worried we’re going to choke on our own vomit, aren’t you?” Karen said.
“No. I’m worried you’re going to choke on each other’s vomit,” I said.
“You’re funny, Daddy-o,” Mindy said. “You’re officially a funny person. I’ve always respected your comedic abilities. You’ve been a secret inspiration of mine. You could write for the show. We have some shitty writers. I mean, they’re shitty.”
“Where’s Ethan?” Karen asked. Her eyes were closed.
“With your mother.”
“Are you two getting back together?” Mindy asked.
I pulled the top of my shirt over my nose. Despite my efforts, both girls still had a fine stench wafting off of them. “Not that I’m aware of. Unless you know something I don’t know.”
“She still loves you, you know,” Mindy said.
“Yeah,” Karen said, “I concur with that sentiment. I sense the love. Chemistry. You two still have it. It’s electric.”
“You should repropose,” Mindy said. “Someone in this family should get married.”
“Yeah, Mom can have my dress,” Karen said. “It’s in the van. No, I shipped it back, that’s right.”
“You can get married at a Cracker Barrel,” Mindy said. “We got to reunite the family, get the band back together.”
“You know, Dad, you know, we broke your car window that time, after you left Mom,” Karen said. “Did you know that?”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“After we found out about your mistress,” Karen said. “You know, the woman, the slut.”
“Yeah, Miss Slut Hooker Whore, our almost stepmom,” Mindy said. “We smashed the windows of your car in honor of her of amazing sluttiness. I was home on break, and Karen you were there, weren’t you? Yeah.”
“Yeah, that was me.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah. We used my golf club. A seven iron, my favorite club. Distance and height. Distance and height. My favorite club.”
“Yeah, Tiger Woods’s wife got that idea from us,” Mindy said. Remember, you called the police, and they thought it might have been that kid across the street. That kid, that basketball-playing kid. Looked like Opie.”
I wasn’t surprised by this confession. “I knew it wasn’t Kyle. I realized later it might have been you two.”
“Yeah, suspicions confirmed,” Mindy said. “I mean, I mean, wouldn’t you do that? You left our mom. Mom Nichols. Mrs. Mom Nichols. You left her. Momma Pajama.”
Karen belched. “You mean Mama Drama. She was pissed.”
“Just for the record, I didn’t leave her. She threw me out, technically.”
“Same thing,” Mindy said.
“Try to sleep.”
“Do you ever regret what you did?” Karen asked. “To Mom?”
“Of course. But I can’t do anything about it.”
“Why did you do it then?”
“I was stupid.”
“Men are weak,” Mindy said.