Bottles of coconut rum, vodka and pineapple juice were scattered across our kitchen counter. My mother was using her cocktail shaker to strain the liquid into martini glasses.
She accidentally spilled some.
"Can you mop that up, Millie?" she asked, sipping her bikini martini. I was already scooping stray ice cubes into my hands. I dropped them into the sink. Mother poured another one for my sister.
Flora was in the backyard, soaking up the sun for a glorious tan. It's amazing how one woman could give birth to two such genetically diverse people. Flora was gorgeous, and I was not. Flora was arrogant, and I had nothing to be arrogant about.
"Matt asked me out last night. He's picking me up for a movie date at 5," Flora said, coming inside to pick up her martini. For the record, that's no
