“FLIP-FLOPS?” Dawn says, aghast. “What did flip-flops do to lose your trust in adulthood, kind sir?”

“They hurt my feet,” the twenty-something shouts over his beer.

“Ah, they hurt him,” she repeats dramatically. “Due cause to end any relationship. Okay! We’re going with flip-flops.”

We huddle up into our little acapella shape and start the pattern game, and my heart is beating so fast as Dawn repeats flip-flops and everyone else repeats it with her, turning to lock eyes with a different person with each word.

“FLIP. FLOPS. FLIP. FLOPS. FLIP-FLOPS.” Dawn catches my eye and winks.

I close my eyes as random words start being rattled off. Please let me remember a phrase and successfully turn it into something funny.

61. A Girl Does Family Dinner

JAMIE

September 5, Saturday Evening

New Jersey

At 4:30, I called my mother from a restricted number as Lara Thorpe, the talent agent. In a posh British accent, I talked her through when, where, and what her fake interview will be like in Vegas. Not to toot my horn too hard, but I killed it. She was so enthused! I answered all her questions. She said she’d be securing her travel immediately. She’ll be emailing over her receipts so we can “reimburse” her.

I googled the Greek casserole recipe—it was a three-page essay with a thousand ingredients that I would most definitely butcher, so I’ve made some changes to the menu.

This kitchen smells amazing: like warm brie, apples, and chicken soup. I bought four cans of Campbell’s chicken noodle and tossed them into a pot to have as a side along with our brie, macaroni, and apple grilled cheese sandwiches. I’ve got tango music playing off Siri’s iPhone through the Bluetooth speakers. George, Gill, and Mara should be here any minute.

I’m coming at Mara hard today. I’m going to push for answers with Gill and George here to keep her honest. An hour ago, I raided her closet for an outfit and stumbled into her cosplay collection. I selected a dark V-neck blue dress and cape paired with brown pants worn by the Mother of Dragons.

“Ah, you’re all here!” Mara swoons as she walks in. “Am I late?” She smiles at George and Gill already at the table. I let them in a few minutes ago, and they’ve been very nice. Both men have politely ignored my ensemble.

“Only by seven minutes, Mother!” I cheer.

I’ve ladled some soup into the bowls I put out, and I’m now hovering near the stove in front of my platter of food.

Mara’s eyes bulge as she takes me in. “Jesus, Siri! What are you wearing? Is that my Dany costume?”

I scrunch my nose in a mocking smile and grab the tinfoil-covered plate of hot grilled sandwiches. “I wanted to wear something I knew you would really love.”