Simmer Down

around Josh. Josh hugged Snacker back, a big grin on his face. Wow, Snacker was pretty cute! Tall and muscular, with olive skin and... not that I was looking.
    Even Adrianna, who rarely took a second look at anyone but Owen, seemed to notice how hot he was. Ade removed her lavender mohair cardigan to reveal a simple, sleeveless black dress. As usual, she looked like she’d just come off of a Vogue photo shoot; her blonde hair cascaded onto her shoulders in soft waves, her nails were manicured, and a hint of makeup highlighted her natural beauty. There was a tiny, evil part of me that hated her for looking so damn gorgeous all the time.
    “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad,” I said, giving them each hugs. My parents both looked half their age, cause to hope that I had a genetic predilection for a youthful appearance. Mom had pulled her hair back with a ribboned barrette I’d made for her at camp fifteen years ago, and Dad wore pressed jeans with sharp creases. Thank God I had Adrianna in my life to counteract the defective fashion gene that ran rampant in my family.
    I greeted everyone and then scooped up my adorable nephew, Walker. “Hi, buddy.” I spun him around and then hung him upside down, a trick that never failed to make him laugh.
    “Is he going to throw up?” Adrianna asked over Walker’s giggles.
    I laughed at her horrified face. Adrianna thought of children the way most people thought of nuclear bombs. “No, he’s not going to throw up. But if he does, I’ll be sure to aim him in your direction.”
    She moved her feet out of the way.
    “Come on, Ade.” Owen snuggled up to her on the couch. “He’s a cute little guy. Aren’t you, little man?” Owen was dressed in his usual quirky attire. As fashion-forward as Adrianna was, she had somehow paired up with the most fashion-backward guy. Tonight, Owen was clad in bright red pants and a matching jacket over a T-shirt I recognized. It was unfortunately emblazoned with the words Beaver Liquors. I hoped he’d keep the buttons on his coat done up. With his ruffled black hair and blue eyes, he was as adorable as ever, even with the inappropriate shirt.
    Walker marched sternly over to Owen. “I’m not a man, and I’m not little. I’m a boy. I’m three, and I have a penis. Want to see?”
    “Walker!” Ben lurched out of his seat in time to stop his son from yanking down his Jimmy Neutron underpants. “Sorry, guys. He’s been interested in, well, his manhood, so to speak.” Ben looked down at Walker. “Kiddo, remember how we talked about the fact that some things are private? This is one of those things.”
    “You have a penis, though.”
    I seriously thought Adrianna might faint.
    An hour and a half later, everyone except Walker was seated at the dining room table. He was in the living room watching Thomas the Tank Engine and eating macaroni and cheese.
    “I can’t believe I have a child that won’t eat anything interesting,” Heather complained as she returned to the table after checking on her son.
    “Ha!” My mother said to the rest of us. “This from a child who drove me crazy the year she was eight and would only eat Middle Eastern food! I sent her to school every day with baba ghanoush and tabbouleh rolled in pita. He’ll grow out of it, Heather. You did. Pretty soon he’ll be demanding you make him Armenian food every day for lunch.”
    Despite the garish and unappetizing porcelain elves that occupied most of the dining space, my parents’ guests enjoyed the delicious dinner: pork loin stuffed with fresh apricots and sage, sauteed spinach, and roasted fingerling potatoes. Josh had advised them on the menu for tonight, but they were both excellent cooks in their own right.
    “Who needs more wine?” my dad asked everyone.
    “Not for me,” Heather said sadly. “One more month of nursing, and I’m done,” she sighed. Lucy was in her lap at the table, passed out asleep after nursing for what seemed like hours. “Eight months of this is more than enough, right?” She looked around for reassurance.
    “Absolutely,” Ben said, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. “You’ve done great.”
    “So, to Josh and Snacker!” My mother raised her wineglass. “Best of luck with your new job.” We all drank to their success. “So, now, tell us everything. Is the menu set? Is the kitchen finished? Are you both going to become rich and famous and start your own television show?”
    Josh laughed. “Well, I don’t know about rich. I had to