Morning Sunday, December 3rd, 2023

Lyrou waited outside the apartment building in Grantwood, holding her umbrella. Tom arrived, and she jumped in beside him. Her expression was blank, and though she had much to say, she didn’t say it yet. Tom had her texts to go by, but he would let it come out when she was ready.

“I’m meeting a kid and his coach about taking him on for training after lunch. You’re welcome to be there.”

Lyrou grew agitated. “At another gym? Your gym?”

Tom drove. “Not a gym, but a prison. He’s due for release. We’ll be talking to him through polycarbonate.”

Lyrou recoiled, her arms folded. “A prisoner? What happened to Kyrylo?”

Tom smiled. “Kyry is folding everyone they send at him. I’ve been getting an influx of requests to take on wannabe Kyrys. Today I talk to a wannabe and maybe give him a life where he can turn his MAOA-L gene variant into profit time instead of penal time.”

Lyrou had to admit she was happy for them all, even the unknown criminal who might get a chance at something different. “That’s all wonderful, Tom.”

With Lyrou softening, he rubbed her thigh. “Will you come with?”

Lyrou quickly answered, “Of course.”

Tom grinned and held his grin for over a minute. “You look good.”

Lyrou thought about what he meant by it. “Why?”

Tom snickered. “If any of those bid-boxes have a brief glancing view of you walking through, they’ll squeeze out between their bars like cell cephalopods.”

Lyrou could use the compliment after having seen Miss Moreno get psycho-fucked back to Freud. “Oui. I’ll make them forget they have bones.”

⚜

Evening Saturday, December 15th, 2023

In their texts, Garin and Andrea broached the matter of what she would be doing during her winter break at uni. She had been asked out by a preppy boy who was going on a snowboarding trip in Aspen, but declined because she had “no interest.” Garin took this to mean she couldn’t drop the money on it and was afraid she wouldn’t fit in.

Garin picked her up not far from her dorm and took her to a winter-wear store. Looking at everything she had picked out, he meant not to miss anything. “Ski gloves, boots, hat, scarf, waterproofs, a helmet, goggles, and a puffy coat and pants.” But he couldn’t register what was missing.

For the first time on a shopping haul, Andrea was too modest to mention the obviously missing item. But then, scanning the store, he slapped his hand to his forehead. “Of course. You don’t have a board.”

Already pushing a full cart, she declined, “Garin. No. They have rentals.”

Garin took her cart and walked to the boards. “You’ll get a board today.”

With a big loving sigh, she looked at the boards, the smaller ones to match her size, but also considering the styles, that it was her enough. “This one or this one?”

She gave him two choices, a black-and-gold board and a pink-and-silver board, but he wasn’t sure. “You’re a pink-and-silver girl trying to make people think you’re a black-and-gold girl, but then some days you’re a black-and-gold girl trying to make people think you’re a pink-and-silver girl. I’ll type on my phone which one you think, you type on your phone which one you think, and if we match, then that’s what you get.”

She turned and typed, not showing him, as did he. Then she asked, “If we don’t match?”

He gestured that they would play rock-paper-scissors, then showed his phone. “Black-and-gold.”

She showed hers. “Same.”

He drove and then walked her back to her dorm, carrying the board and a bag, while she carried a couple of bags. She was gratuitous, and it made her alive, made her walk differently, head higher, made her write this Garin into her short, short list of men who’d been good to her.

Who has been so good to her as Garin?

Placing these many items inside while he stood in the hall, she saw that he wasn’t entering. In the doorframe, she invited him. “Come inside.”

Garin took her hand and gave it a light kiss. “I can’t do that. I want you to have fun, be yourself, and all the motivational poster mottos. OK?”

Andrea nodded. “Hang in there?”

Garin quipped, “Hang ten. Or is that surfing? You’re going to contact him and tell him you’re going?”

Andrea nodded. “Yes.” And then hugged him, arms about his waist, bleached head under his chin.

Parting, she watched him down the hall, a small wave.

⚜

Evening Friday, December 22nd, 2023

Flying out of EWR into MCO on the plane to Orlando, Alan sat next to his little sister and grabbed her hand to keep her from wiggling her loose tooth. But as soon as he’d removed her hand, she’d stick her finger back into her mouth and pry.

Alan stared at her. “This is you.” He did an exaggerated impression of her, finger twisting into his gaping mouth, eyes bugging, neck hunched.

Penny was talking with her finger still working the incisor in circles. “What? I have to get it out.”

Alan decided then that if she was going to disgust him, then he’d return it on her twofold. “Scientists can regrow teeth, which means you can become rich.”

Penny bought in, her saliva-dipped finger dropping to her lap. “How?”

Alan cocked an eyebrow. “Imagine you put a tooth under the pillow, you get paid, it’s nice, but you only have so many baby teeth. But now, you can yank the adult teeth out, put them under the pillow, regrow them, re-yank them, ka-ching, regrow them, re-yank them, ka-ching, regrow them, re-yank them, ka-ching, regrow them, re-yank them, ka-ching, regrow them.”

Penny closed her ears up under her palms. “Stop!” Turning to Mom, listening in as Dad sat just across the aisle, asleep.

Alan spoke regardless. “Well, if you’re regrowing them, you have to yank the last set or your whole mouth will fill with teeth like a shark or that one boy from India.”

Knitting up her nose, she asked, “What Indian boy?”

Alan spoke loud enough that other passengers also overheard. “He had over five hundred teeth. He had to have them removed in a big surgery.”

Penny sat up, intrigued. “Is he rich now?”

Alan blew up his cheeks at the obviousness of her question, that she might feel dumb to ask. “Of course he is! And now, because he’s rich, every mom and auntie in India is begging his parents to betroth him to their daughters and nieces.”

Confused, she asked, “To what him?”

Alan tapped her wobbling knee away from his. “To marry him.”

Penny folded up her arms in protest. “Gross, I’d never marry him!”

Alan leaned in close. “Why? You’re gross too. You can be gross together.”

Penny pushed him back, hands on his chest. “He has over five hundred teeth!”

Alan sat back, shaking his head at her failure to comprehend. “He had… had! And now he’s a bombastic tooth king. He has a cane with one of his removed teeth embedded in the bottom tip so that he can press things with his tooth, like elevator buttons, vending machine options, turnstiles, and little girls who get in his way when he’s walking.”

Shuddering, she said, “If he touched me with his tooth-cane I would… I’d kick out his last teeth.”

Alan thought a moment, then added, “You would only make him richer.”

⚜

Evening Saturday, December 23rd, 2023

Late and worn from walking the amusement theme parks through the whole day, they had dinner and returned to the resort hotel. Lyrou took Penny and Alan into the attached room and sent them to brush and bed.

Garin lay alone in his room and flipped through the small Bible that’d been left in the drawer, per custom. He started at the start and made his way through Genesis. He wondered if he could make it to Exodus before Lyrou returned.

He came to the fable of Rachel selling a night of sex with her husband to Leah for mandrakes. He read it twice because he was stunned that such a story was in the Old Testament. Angels, giants, world-ending floods, battles decided by trumpets, cruel and unusual executions over victimless crimes, magic tricks and miracles of all kinds, but the cuckquean scenario was one he’d missed.

Lyrou appeared through the adjoining door. “They couldn’t remain awake for five minutes, but I expected neither could you.”

“Do you like mandrakes?” Garin asked seriously.

Lyrou undressed and wiped her face by the vanity mirror. “Real mandrakes? No. In fantasy stories, they’re powerful, lifting curses, reviving the mortally wounded and prescribed for mysterious maladies. And they sometimes learn to speak.”

Garin opened and flipped the Bible pages at her. “In scriptural stories, they’re more powerful!”

Lyrou brushed her teeth thoughtfully and, between spitting, said, “I don’t recall mandrakes in the Good Book, Garin. Did Christ feed them out of a bottomless basket to the hungry masses?”

Garin closed it up on the nightstand. “If he did, they would’ve become the thirsty masses.”

Lyrou turned off the light and lay beside him. “And so that’s why he supplied the wine.”

Garin took her in his arms, lying face to face. “I meant the other kind of thirsty, but since you brought it up… tomorrow night, wine for two?”

With a loving smile, she answered, “Oui.”

⚜

Morning Monday, December 25th, 2023

Lyrou, Penny, Garin, and Alan gathered together in the attached room. They decided the youngest would receive her gifts first. Lyrou, Garin, and Alan readied their phones, and seeing one another ready, they texted Penny pictures of the gifts that awaited her at home in Edgewater.

Penny loved her new bedroom décor and backpack flair, and her new clothes. “It’s fire. It’s going to burn our house down while we’re gone.”

Next, Alan’s phone buzzed with incoming photos. He received game currency cards and a replica samurai sword. “I will avenge my clan or end myself by hara-kiri!”

Lyrou objected, “Don’t speak that way, Alan.” But then warmed as they each grinned and sent her photos of her gifts. She appreciated her English poetry guide, a synthetic fur scarf, and a yoga headstand bench. “I will really try to write an English poem. I can do that. I have the words, but it’s the English spirit in the words that’s so difficult to appropriate.”

Garin sat in wait as they each texted photos of his gifts, then looked into his screen. Grooming gifts, a weighted running vest, and new jogging shoes. “OK, I get it! I’m an unshaven, lice-infested blob of a man!” He feigned tears.

Alan slapped his knee and pointed. “Dad, admitting you have a problem is the first step.”

Penny approached and hugged everyone. “Thank you. And thank you. And thank you, Alan.”

⚜

Afternoon Tuesday, December 26th, 2023

Garin and Lyrou sat in the hotel hot tub while Penny and Alan were off in the slides. Lyrou thought about the houses she’d seen driving between parks. “Who moves to Florida? Retirees, yes. Who else?”

Garin went through the types. “Boaters and surfers, LGBTQ Gospel Belt exiles, tax refugees, snowbird winter residents escaping the northern cold, Caribbean immigrants linking up with their enclaves here, and then these parks have their own human ecosystem that sucks in people from around the world.”

Lyrou sank up to her chin in bubbles. “I don’t think we’re any of those kinds of people.”

Garin made a sorta-maybe hand gesture. “A boat for me, a surfboard for Alan, a string of auditions to get Penny into a kids’ show, a big house for you.”

Lyrou rose up from the water, sitting next to Garin with the water jets in her back. “For me? I think you mean for us.”

Garin shook his head. “The kids and I could live in a school bus.”

Lyrou feigned agreement, but her temper rose. “OK. The big house is for me.”

Garin rubbed his wet hair back. He wouldn’t take what he said back. “Is there anything from me that’s just for you?”

She stood from the water, now up to her knees, water pouring down off her body. “Not anymore.”

She stepped out, taking her towel and going to the women’s locker room.

Garin stayed, fuming at what he dared not say to himself, but it slipped through to the topmost layer of his consciousness. “She could only say that out of solipsism. Yes? No?” He looked to the place where she had been boiling beside him, water swirling, steam curling.

⚜

Morning Friday, December 29th, 2023

Alan and Penny agreed to stay together and not leave the park. Their watches, which Lyrou checked were well-charged, would ping their locations anyway, but Alan had asserted Penny would disappear into a white van for cotton candy to scare Mom into not letting her tag along with him. And so they both got a long lecture about not trusting even the park staff.

Once the siblings were off, vanishing into the streaming crowds, Garin took Lyrou’s hand, and they hit the scarier rides Penny had ruled out. There was one that Lyrou also ruled out.

“A ride should be riveting but not a death machine. If one thing goes wrong, that would drop, and everyone inside would be a raw burger.” She pointed up as the passengers spun and screamed.

Garin shrugged. “We’re not at a traveling country fair with carnies maintaining the gears, but it’s possible.”

Lyrou, though objecting, still watched the ride. “Why do people want to do that? Are they numb to the rest? Have they become acclimated and now getting looped around and dropped doesn’t do it for them anymore, so they increase the dose until they die as rush junkies?”

“Skydivers and bungee jumpers must find a theme park boring.” Garin gave a gentle tug of her hand and walked to a ride she should have no cause to oppose. “A 4D superhero narrative. A lot of motion and fire, but it’s all simulated.”

She looked ahead to where Garin was leading her. “Simulated?”

Garin stopped with a grin. “It has great reviews. It stands as one of the most popular attractions in Florida. What’s wrong?”

Lyrou looked up into Garin’s eyes. “But you made it sound too safe.”

Garin burst with a big laugh. “Too safe!? Then come on.” He tugged her back the way they came.

She lagged behind, her hand in his. “Non. Garin, the 3D… 4D thing is good… why?”

He pulled her along, smiling, and pointed ahead at the dreaded ride she had cowered from. “We have no choice. If we don’t strap in for it, we’re yellow-bellies! Don’t be yellow, Lyrou!”

And there was no turning back.

⚜

Evening Sunday, December 31st, 2023

Lyrou was not immune to the nostalgia upon seeing Penny hug a pair of animated characters in their big mascot heads. Taking photos of her daughter literally embracing the imaginary, her heart swelled, and she delighted in the presence of such absolute innocence.

That Penny was still there in that state, and that Lyrou could steal this moment now, made her grateful. All in those short few poses and pictures, Lyrou knew with even greater certainty than she had before that this was it, this was the stuff, and it was worth everything she had given and foregone. In retrospect, she would’ve paid much, much more for this.

Garin, beside her, felt the contented mom energy emanating from his wife. It wasn’t the outdated rides or overpriced souvenir shops that had brought out this side of Lyrou, but a couple of mute humps in sweaty, itchy polyester, EVA foam, fiberglass, resin, and urethane.

He opened his Cash Compliment app to give a tip and was frustrated to find that he’d misread Cast as Cash. It only allowed guests to submit compliments with the location and time, and so he did that. “The dalmatian and the koala-alien won the best smiles today.”

⚜

New Year’s Day, January 1st, 2024

Home in Edgewater, New Jersey. Lyrou woke in the dark of early morning next to Garin. He was deep asleep, his body like a sack of potatoes beside her, his foot jutting into her corner of the mattress. She couldn’t sleep, staring into the dark, thinking about everything.

She needed to clear her mind the best way she knew. She’d read a chapter of the vampire novel she was midway through.

Flipping silently out of bed, she snatched her book and phone off the nightstand like an owl picking up a gopher and gliding out of the room into the hallway. She opened to her bookmark and leaned left into the guestroom. Twisting on a lamp knob and lying back on the futon, she planted her eyes into the pages.

The vampire novel had been an escape into another world. The unfolding forbidden romance, of evil vs good, the lurking danger.

She began to read where she’d left off. “Without pity, Lord Gideon rescinded his offer of mercy on Ioana. He’d been cruelly toying with her. Helpless against his supernatural speed and strength, his long fingers seized her by her scalp. He dragged her by her hair through the dust and bone-strewn halls of his dungeon, her body kicking and sliding across cold black stone. Her screams echoed far but in vain. This charnel ruler of the night regarded her no higher a lifeform than a screaky meat animal. He pulled her to her cell, grunting and yanking. He would keep her for years, decades, until her body finally gave up the ghost and slipped from this Hell. His hunchback servant, at his command, would chain her, feed her slop, whip her, bathe her in buckets of ice water, all only keeping her alive in her total solitary confinement. And when Lord Gideon woke from his sarcophagus to drink each full moon, he’d find her in her cell and help himself to her wrists and neck. That would be her wholly undeserved fate, this innocent, faithful one. That would have been her fate had she not the presence of mind to cry out one name, ‘Oh! Please! A eunuch monk sent me to beseech your favor, immortal Gideon! Ah! Please! The barefoot performer of miracles, the keeper of holy relics, Friar Vasile Dragos!’”

The futon creaked beneath Lyrou, and she shifted slightly, thinking that Lord Gideon would recall Vasile Dragos after so long, or care. It was Ioana’s only hope now.

Then Lyrou heard a noise in the hallway. She thought she saw a shadow pass in the corner of her eye before she could look straight.

“Hello?” she asked softly.

Frozen, she got no reply.

The novel had her creeped out, but the eerie sense of a presence coupled with whatever that was in the hallway, really… bzzzzzzz! Bzzzzzzz!

“Oh là là! Shit!” Lyrou jumped out of her skin. Her phone was ringing after 3 a.m.

Her fingers traced the edge of the book, a quiet frustration building in her chest. She muted her phone before it woke anybody else. She was closest to Alan’s room, but he could sleep through a hurricane.

She looked at the screen. It was her mother.

It was daytime in Paris, and her mother would know it was nighttime on the opposite end of the Atlantic. Her mom might have something important to tell her for her to call, intending to wake Lyrou. But Lyrou wouldn’t answer.

“Non, non, non.”

Lyrou decided that if it was important, her maman would call again. The silent ringing stopped. No voicemail, no text.

She returned to reading her novel.

“Lord Gideon’s hands clasped round Ioana’s slender neck, hoisting her up into the air, her feet dangling high. ‘Dragossss?’ the monster hissed in interrogation. Tears spurting from her eyes and nose, Ioana nodded, her hands clawing at the vampire’s arms to pull herself up, if only slightly, so as not to be strangled to death there and then. ‘Yes! Dragos! Please!’ The monster dropped her with an uncaring thud. She gasped in the mildew and kissed the feet of the unliving. ‘You owe Friar Dragos. You must remember what you owe!’”

An evil and sickening groan emitted from within Lord Gideon’s chest and throat. “Grrrraaaa-a-a-aw!”

Lyrou went on reading her novel like this for over an hour before deciding to float downstairs into the kitchen. She’d make and pack lunches for everybody before starting on breakfast, too.

⚜

Morning Sunday, January 7th, 2024

Lyrou and her family sang Happy Birthday in their gazebo out back, Garin presenting a strawberry-banana cake Penny had chosen. Alan brought in her three gifts, Garin specifying, “None of them are from any of us in particular, but from the trio collectively.”

First, a star officially named after her, with a certificate and constellation map indicating where it could be seen.

Alan pointed to it on the map and quickly assured her he’d bring out his telescope on the balcony. “On another night. It’s cloudy tonight.”

Garin added, “We might not see it with all the light pollution on the clearest nights, but when we go camping we’ll toss your telescope in the truck, Alan.”

Alan nodded. “It’s a good name for a star, actually. If ET’s are discovered there one day, they’ll be called Lyrouans!”

Next, a handmade bracelet in which the beads spelled out all four names in their family, punctuated by fleurs-de-lis. Lyrou examined it closely, not plastic but glass and stone pieces.

“These are the same I use for my…” Lyrou began, but Penny interrupted, “We didn’t look at your mosaic, promise. I just took some of the beads out of your jars and…”

Alan also interrupted, “…and I wrote the letters with metallic enamel paint and…”

Penny talked over her brother. “…and I put them on the string and tied it.”

Lyrou tried it on. “But the holes?” she wondered.

Garin explained, miming how he operated the tool. “I rented a drill press from the hardware section.”

Lyrou expressed through her lips, “Ouuui?! C’est joli.”

Alan pushed forward across the table the last present, a gift card with a sticky bow on it. Lyrou took it and hugged it to her chest. “I’ll use this one today.”

Alan grabbed his hair by both hands in mockery of himself, making a high-pitched voice. “Do. You. Like. Your. Stuff?!”

Lyrou aped his action, pulling her own hair in both hands. “Oui. I. like. My. Stuff. Alan! Penny! Garin!” She turned for a quick kiss on Garin’s cheek.

⚜

Noon Tuesday, January 16th, 2024

Face down across Tom’s bed, Lyrou could lift her gaze and see out his balcony sliding doors, snow falling from a grey sky, and 300 towers, 6,000 high-rises, varied in length, thickness, shape, color, and style.

Tom was slamming into her from behind and above, rocking the bed and mashing her big ass cheeks with each dive-bombing. His arms on either side of her head like columns driven into the mattress, his grunting and panting. She didn’t work for it this time but took it.

Tom closed his eyes so as not to climax early from the sight of her, the shape of her body, how her lower back narrowed, the wonderful width of her hips, her coiled hair falling over the side of his bed, her shoulder blades gliding beneath her skin as she reached back to place her hand on his hip. And the sensation of being inside of her was nearly enough to end him. If she said anything at all, anything in her Lyrou voice, he wouldn’t be able to go another second.

“Je suis ta captive. Fais ce que tu fais à tes captives, Tom.”

In his final thrust, he pushed with force enough to send her forward partly off the bed. She stopped and braced herself by one hand to the floor, her other hand to the wall.

Tom rolled her into his cage of thick arms and tensed muscle. He released with a groan.

⚜

Noon Thursday, January 25th, 2024

Lyrou was with Paulo in an apartment complex. He was waiting there to meet his pana to pick up a discounted laptop with the specs and programs to do some music magic on, but said pana was late, having picked up some overtime.

Waiting in the hall, Lyrou became flustered that she couldn’t get a signal on her phone, so Paulo walked her up the stairwell and to the roof.

From up there, she got the signal she needed to text. As she finished sending, she looked up to find Paulo had begun walking the ledge of the building, sixteen floors high, one foot in front of the other, arms out at his sides to balance.

“Paulo! Stop it.”

He kept on, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re texting the hubby?”

Lyrou nodded. “You’ll fall, and then what should I do?”

Paulo crossed his fingers and held them over his head, proceeding. “I’ll make it around once. That wasn’t your hubby. Corriendo como gallina sin cabeza to the roof.”

Lyrou slipped her phone into her purse. “You’re correct.”

Paulo smiled, looking down over the side, parking lots, streets, parks. “Another me?!” One foot in front of the other.

Lyrou shook her head, not nearing, but willing him not to lose his balance. “There is no other you, Paulo. There is no category for you.”

Paulo clapped once, loud and hard, his body shifting precariously. “You tell all the tertiary boys that.”

Lyrou inched toward him, but halted. “Careful, please, please. The man I just texted couldn’t care. Do you?”

Paulo winced, stepping across a corner. “If you think I’m going to trip over you, you are mistaken.”

Lyrou turned, facing Paulo as he continued his lap along the edge, like the Earth rotating under the orbiting pull of the Moon. “You seem like you’re catching feelings. I’m… speechless.”

Paulo turned, taking his attention off his narrow path, looking into Lyrou. His eyes flashed like a coyote in the night. “I don’t catch feelings. I catch domesticated rabbits, pull them from their hutches, and make off into the bush with them.”

“Are we planning to run away together?” Lyrou had a mind to say something more, but before she could utter a syllable, Paulo took a short running jump across the corner to the adjacent ledge.

“Paulo! Merde!”

Paulo turned and began the rest of his course walking backward. “What’s his name?”

Lyrou held her hand out, droplets landing on her palm. “It’s raining. You’ll slip.”

Paulo held his arms straight out and began twirling along the ledge. “His name?”

Rappelée à Garin, to his jealous, violent demand for names, Lyrou snapped, “Why does it matter? His name? Tom. Tom. Tom. So what? You know what this is. Tell me the names of the other ‘rabbits’ you pull from hutches… or wait… don’t, because I don’t give a shit. Paulo?”

Paulo turned the last corner and, pulling his knee up into a sling made by locking his fingers under his shin, he stood on one leg. “If I make it to the end, then you have to hop on it like a good bunny.”

Lyrou shook her head and took another small step toward him. “I was going to do that anyway. Please stop this vainglorious stunt or I don't know what I'll do.”

Paulo took a one-legged hop along the ledge. Lyrou closed her eyes. He spoke. “What should you do? If I go down, you must tell everyone the legend of Paulo. Even your Tom! Make me live forever, Lyrou.”

Lyrou looked away, hearing the scuffy sound of each one-legged hop he made. “Please, please.”

Paulo shouted out to the city below, “Con la mitad de las piernas, Paulo es el doble de peligroso!”

She heard the gravelly sound of his feet landing in roof ballast. She turned to see him standing on the roof, down from the ledge.

“Bravo. Let’s go inside and see if your friend is in.”

Paulo did a matador bow, approaching Lyrou to go back in and down the stairwell. “Knock, knock, knock… knock, knock, knock. I saw a police car with the silent siren lights flashing coming this way. Maybe someone made a call.”

They hurried down to take sanctuary.

⚜

Evening Saturday, February 3rd, 2024

Joey’s cousin’s son, figghiu di cuginu, was betrothed to an old mutual classmate-from-the-neighborhood’s daughter. “A big, greasy gathering of dagos,” Joey’s super-elderly Sicilian mom called it.

Garin picked them up at her home in the retirement community and joined, as he knew the bride’s and the groom’s parents as a kid. They entered together, and Garin carried Ma’s purse as she and Joey made the mandatory small talk with all the extended family and friends.

Joey explained to his ma, “The bride’s a ‘cloud architect’, the groom a ‘blockchain developer’, and they’re making big bank.”

She smiled in her seat, thick spectacles watching them read their personal vows, leaning over to Garin. “What in the fuck is a blockchain developer or a… a cloud…?”

Garin whispered, “Cloud architect. It’s data stuff. The important thing is they have enough dough to make Joey wear a diaper and beg them to adopt him.”

Ma gave a big, toothless quiet laugh. Joey grinned. “I can’t be your son no more, Ma. I’m unadopting myself to you.”

Eyes on the newlyweds, she countered, “You convinced me to let you put my SSI into that crypto stock you put your money in. Where did it go? I can’t be your ma. Put me in a diaper too.”

Joey sighed. “It’s not stock, though, please.”

Ma nudged Garin. “I should be the one gambling with the rest of the silent generation, but look at him. He’s the gambler.”

Garin became entranced by seeing the couple kiss and the audience cheering. They seemed, like a movie, to move in slow motion. In his heart, he wrote a message to them: may it all be happy, more happy and fulfilling than us jaded bastards could bear to see.

⚜