Chapter 36
“You’re being quiet.”
“Am I? I’m just tired. And cold. Get under the blankets with me.”
“Thank you for coming tonight.”
“Thank you for inviting me. Thank your sister Honny for me.”
“You already thanked her. It was nice of you to bring pumpkin pie.”
“I didn’t know there would be four hundred pies.”
“Joy made one especially for you.”
“Oh, she told me. I ate two pieces.”
“I know it was a lot . . .”
“It was good pie.”
“No, I mean—I know that my sisters are a lot . . .”
“What’s up with your older sister?”
“Which one?”
“Hope.”
“I can’t believe you remember all their names.”
“I use mnemonics.”
“Like what?”
“Like . . . Honny looks like a honey bear. And Faith wears a George Michael cross, so ‘Faith.’ ”
“Honny doesn’t look like a honey bear.”
“She doesn’t not look like a honey bear.”
“How do you remember my name, Russ?”
“I met you before I needed mnemonics, but I can think of a few good ones . . .”
“Men love to sexualize my name.”
“I like to sexualize your everything, Cherry.”
“What were you asking, about Hope?”
“Did she do something terrible? No one was talking to her.”
“You were talking to her.”
“Your sisters kept talking over her.”
“It’s complicated. She’s taking Ozempic, but she won’t admit it.”
“Ahhh.”
“What does ‘ahhh’ mean?”
“It just means ‘ah.’ So you guys aren’t talking to her because she’s on Ozempic?”
“Because she won’t tell us she’s taking it.”
“It sounds like you all already know.”
“She told my mom she was watching her carbs.”
“Maybe she is.”
“No one loses a hundred pounds watching their carbs!”
“Holy shit, did she lose a hundred pounds? That’s impressive.”
“You aren’t getting it.”
“I guess not.”
“If Hope loses a bunch of weight ‘watching her carbs,’ it implies that all any of us have to do is watch our carbs.”
“But you do watch your carbs.”
“Exactly! And it’s pointless!”
“Then why do you do it?”
“Because I like myself better when I’m trying.”
“I didn’t realize Ozempic was so effective . . .”
“It isn’t for everyone. And there are risks.”
“Huh . . .”
“I’m not mad at Hope. Honny and Joy are. Really it’s just Honny . . . You haven’t said anything about how we all look alike.”
“Well, you are sisters.”
“People have a hard time telling us apart.”
“I was more struck by how their husbands all look alike. How does that work?”
“They don’t look alike. They’re just a type.”
“I don’t think any of your sisters’ husbands liked me—were they attached to your ex?”
“To Tom? I don’t think so. I mean . . . they liked him well enough, but he didn’t really fit in.”
“He wasn’t the strong, silent type?”
“No, I guess he was—but he wasn’t a churchgoer.”
“I don’t think I got any credit for my Catholicism.”
“They probably didn’t like the idea of someone bringing a shiny new man to Thanksgiving. Maybe it made them feel replaceable . . .
Don’t worry about them. My sisters all liked you, and their husbands think whatever my sisters tell them to.”
“Is that so?”
“No, I’m just kidding.”
“Huh . . .”