Twenty-Six
Memory 15
It was his idea that my sweet sixteenth should have a “nineties’ bubble-gum pop” theme.
“What? It’s ironic,” he said. “Everyone knows you’re into the serious and worthy nineties’ music, not Aqua and Westlife. They’ll know you’re doing it tongue-in-cheek. Don’t worry. Your cred will remain intact.” He looked at me suspiciously. “You do still like nineties’ music, don’t you, Connie-girl? Or has my Other Best Friend completely Stepford-Wifed you into submission and a penchant for Baroque string quartets?”
I looked down at my fingernails. They were French manicured. Viggo’s sister Catherine had invited me along to her “nail therapy” appointment. Of course, it would have been rude to say no. And Viggo encouraged me to go. He said his sister could use some “girl time”, a
