9781250209153

“Why didn’t you keep them moving?” she says, gritting her teeth. I
should have noticed she’d walked up next to me. Her cedar perfume is
getting too familiar.
“Keep them moving?” I mock. “I’m not walking a pack of dogs,
Abraham.”
“Oh girls!” the moms squeal. “Look at you together!”
There’s nothing to do but smile and pretend to be thrilled with this
family introduction. Mom and Dad beam at Irene; Irene’s parents beam at
me. Mrs. Zander literally claps. Danielle hides her laughter behind her
hand.
“Let’s get your picture together,” Irene’s dad says, pulling out his phone.
He’s slender and speaks with an accent. He has Irene’s mouth.
“Oh, we don’t need to—” I start.
“No, Dad, we’re fine—” Irene tries.
But of course the parents have their way. There are suddenly five phones
trained on us, because even Mrs. Zander is getting in on the mix.
“Why are you standing so stiffly?” Irene’s mom chides. “Hug each
other! Do something!”
Irene and I trade looks.
“Um, we’re not really into PDA,” I say.
“Yeah, we’re not huggers. It’s so tacky,” Irene adds.
“Really?” Danielle says. I recognize the twinkle in her eyes: She’s about
to have some fun. “But I see you hug all the time. I love watching you hug.
It’s like all the love in the universe coming together.”
I’m ready to throttle her.
“Come on,” my mom says. “Just one little hug and we’ll leave you
alone.”
And that’s how Irene and I end up with our arms around each other,
forcing smiles for the cameras. Her shoulder is warm. Her hair tickles my
face. I find myself holding my breath.
“Oh! Don’t move!” another voice shouts at us. “It’s for the newspaper!”
The goddamn Cleveland triplets have walked into our picture party.
Now all three of them are snapping photos that will no doubt end up on
social media.