The Dirty Book Club(50)



“You’re here?”

“No.” Britt pulled the duvet back over her head just as Destiny appeared in the bedroom doorway. She was dressed in denim cutoffs, a black mesh tank, and devil-red sneakers that maintained a safe distance from the scattered food. “What’s going on, Mom? Why do you look like Stevie Wonder?” She cut a look to M.J. and Addie. “Who are they?”

“I left a window open last night and the raccoons got in. My friends offered to help me tidy up. Destiny, I’d like you to meet—”

“You have friends?”

Jules giggled. “?’Course I do, silly. Now tell me, how was Oceanside? How’s Daddy?”

Destiny’s upturned nose crinkled. “You don’t know how your own husband is?”

“Of course I know. What I meant was how was he with you? Did you have fun?”

“Yeah, Mom, we raged.” Her gaze lifted toward the three pairs of underwear hanging from the blades of the ceiling fan. “Not as much as those raccoons, though.”

Jules managed a tight-lipped smile. “Are you working the reservation desk today or the Kids Club?”

“I gave my shift to Krista.”

“Why?”

“Chest has the day off so we’re gonna hang.”

“Chest? Who’s Chest?”

“My boyfriend.”

“I thought you were seeing Alex from back home.” She brought a hand to her heart. “Did you two break up?”

“No, we just call him Chest because he never wears shirts.”

Addie snickered.

Jules lowered onto the edge of the bed. “So where will you and Alex be hanging?”

“Around.”

“And what will you be wearing?”

“This.”

“You’re just pickin’, right?”

“No.”

“Destiny, honey, you’re going to get old and new monia dressed like that. How about a pair of jeans and that cute white top from Brandy Melville?”

In a glyph of teenage impatience, Destiny rolled her heavily lined eyes toward the heavens, as if God was the only one who could possibly understand the extent of her intolerable existence. “I have to go.”

“Keep your phone on and please be home by five.” Jules stood and pulled her daughter in for a hug. “Actually, home by three would be better, you know, before it starts getting dark.” Destiny stiffened, arms hanging limply by her side. “And make good choices.”

“I’m not going to an orgy, Mom.”

“That’s unfortunate,” Addie mumbled.

“Addie!” Jules snapped.

“You’re Addie?” Destiny stepped into the room. “Addie Oliver?”

“Guilty.”

“You know her?”

Destiny ignored her mother’s question and introduced herself. “Some girls at the beach were talking about you the other day.”

“All bad stuff, I hope,” Addie said.

“They said you showed them how to—” Destiny widened her eyes, goading Addie to read her mind.

“Surf?” Addie guessed.

Destiny shook her head.

“Skateboard?”

Another shake.

“Make Botox?”

“No! How to use a—” She lifted her index finger and made a buzzing sound.

“Vibrator!” Addie called, a charades player with the winning answer.

“Yes.”

“What?” Jules yelped.

“It must have been Laura and Amy,” said Addie.

“No.”

“Mary-Elizabeth and Stephanie?”

“It was Jenn and Camille.”

“Right, I remember them. They stopped by the women’s clinic last week for—” Addie stopped herself. “Actually, I can’t tell you why they were there, that would be unethical. But, yes, I did teach them how to use a vibrator.”

Jules’s nostrils flared. “And that’s not unethical?”

“I didn’t demonstrate! I hooked them up with a gift bag and a couple of Duracells. It was nothing. Know your own body before you share it with someone else, I always say.”

“Why?” Jules asked.

“Why, what?”

“Why do you always say that?”

“Because young girls need to take control of their sexuality. Especially, when they’re coming into the clinic asking for birth control.” Addie slapped a hand over her mouth. “Shit! You didn’t hear that.” Then to Destiny, “I can put a package together for you if you want.”

Jules wedged herself in the narrow space between them. “My daughter does not need a package.”

“She’s right,” Destiny said. “Mom’s the one who needs the package. At least until Dad moves up here, which will probably be never.” With that she turned on the heel of her red sneaker, leaving Jules to vomit on the Majestic’s fine linens—a mortifying embarrassment that she would later tell Housekeeping was the unfortunate result of the stomach flu. Destiny’s, of course.



* * *



“HUNDREDS OF SCENARIOS went through my head last night when I was trying to get in touch with you,” Dan said, when M.J. staggered into the cottage. “And Disneyland was none of them.”

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