Our kitchen counter was littered with bottles of coconut rum, vodka, and pineapple juice. My mother was straining the liquor into martini glasses with her cocktail shaker.
She spilled some by accident.
Billie asked, sipping her bikini martini, "Can you clean that up?"
I'd already scooped a few stray ice cubes into my palms. I tossed them in the garbage disposal. My mother poured a second glass for my sister.
Florence was laying in the sun in the backyard, soaking up the rays for a beautiful tan. It's incredible that one woman could give birth to two people with such different genetic backgrounds.
Florence was stunning, whereas I was not. Florence was cocky, and I didn't have anything to be cocky about.
"Last night, Matt asked me out. He'll pick me up at 5 p.m. for a movie date"Flo
