Fenny leaned against the doorjamb as she watched Brad struggle to get out of his shirt—he’d missed a button on his cuff and was flapping one arm like a wounded ostrich. After a moment he seemed to notice that Fenny was not matching his enthusiasm to undress, and he looked over at her cautiously.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Getting naked?” he said with big, hopeful eyes. “Isn’t that – you brought me here – the Fifty Shades…?”

“I was just trying to move us somewhere your daughter wouldn’t catch us making out like teenagers, I said nothing of naked fun times, and I plan on overcharging the studio for those Fifty Shades menus as punishment for them putting ideas into your head.”

Brad had finally managed to disentangle himself from his sleeve, and he sauntered up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She raised an eyebrow at him. “I have to leave here at like seven in the morning to catch my plane,” he pouted.

“Lilly could be home any minute, and she’ll be asking for quinoa.”

“She’s so busy Instagramming her angst, she wouldn’t notice if we were wearing bear suits and hanging from swings in the living room,” he countered as he trailed kisses across her collar bone and nudged her an inch or two towards the bed. “Besides, speaking to anyone over the age of 20 is beneath her dignity, she won’t bother us.”

“Let’s just wait ’til she’s home and sulking in her room. We can make out like teenagers until then.” Brad seemed to like that idea and went back to kissing her, but when he reached for the fly of her jeans, she giggled and pushed his hands away. “Bradley,” she admonished.

He glanced over her shoulder and smiled to himself. “Alexa, tell Fenny how I feel about her.”

The blue ring of light spun around on the device on Fenny’s dresser, and the prim mechanical voice chirped, “Let’s Get it On, by Marvin Gay,” followed by music.

I’ve been really trying, baby

Tryin’ to hold back this feeling, for so long

And if you feel like I feel, baby

Come on, oh, come on,

Let’s get it on

“Alexa,” Fenny interrupted, and the music stopped. “Tell Brad that was a nice try.”

“Wipe Out, by the Surfaris,” the machine announced, and Brad pouted as the distinctive laughter from the opening of the song filled the room. “Ha ha ha ha, Wipeout!”

“Alexa,” Brad said sweetly, “please tell Fenny that she means the world to me.”

“Tonight I’m Gonna Rock You Tonight by Spinal Tap.”

“You’re wooing me with Spinal Tap?” Fenny asked with an incredulous smirk.

“It’s a beautiful ballad,” he argued.

Little girl, it’s a great big world, but there’s only one of me

You can’t touch ’cause I cost too much

But tonight I’m gonna rock ya,

Yeah, tonight I’m gonna rock ya tonight!

“While you were programming the Alexa to play this, did you listen to the second verse?”

“Um, I’m not sure, why?”

Fenny slipped into Dani mode again and breathed, “It really is a great song, isn’t it, Mr. Sherwood.” Brad screwed up his face in confusion as the second verse started.

You’re sweet but you’re just four feet And you still got your baby teeth You’re too young and I’m too well hung…

“Alexa!” he yelped and the music stopped. “Tell Fenny what I want most in the world.”

“I Just Wanna Make Love to You by the Animals.”

I don’t want you to cook my bread

I don’t want you to make my bed

I don’t want you when I’m blue

I just wanna make love to you

He was swaying to the music, coaxing her to move with him, and when he finally got her to the edge of the bed, he kissed her, and tried to unfasten her fly again. This time she let him. “You should’ve started with the Animals,” she murmured as she pulled her shirt over her head. “Alexa, tell Brad he did good.”

“Lucky Man by Emerson Lake and Palmer.”

He had white horses and ladies by the score

All dressed in satin and waiting by the door

Oooooh, what a lucky man he was

Oooooh, what a lucky man he was

“And you teased me for Spinal Tap,” Brad tutted as he scooped Fenny up and plopped her on the bed. “Alexa, play my sexy playlist,” he chirped as he flopped next to her.

“Playing Sexy Playlist. Bang a Gong (Get It On) by T. Rex.”

“I’ve changed my mind,” Fenny laughed and pretended to roll out of bed, but instead climbed on top of Brad for another kiss.

Gina and Moonstar had arrived at the theatre just as the lights were going down after having been caught in an absurd conversation with an American barista about the regional differences in the names given to Mars-brand candy bars that had somehow devolved into the man blaming Mitch McConnell for the death of the his sister’s pet turtle, at which point the two women fled as quickly as possible.

Gina was happy that they’d had an excuse to show up late enough to not risk running into Paul before the show, but not late enough to draw his attention and be teased from the stage. As it was, they were allowed to sit near the back and enjoy the show like normal people, a luxury not often afforded her. They were both amused that even when Paul was attempting to do a straight-up musical performance, with no songs about bestiality or terrorism or his own genitalia, he still found excuses to insult his audience and the guitarist whenever possible. Some things never change.

After the show, Gina and Moonstar took their time leaving. Gina wanted to give Paul enough time to clean up and stew for a bit before she hunted him down, and Moonstar wanted to finish her wine.

“He really is an idiot, your husband,” Moonstar smirked.

“Ex-husband. And yes, yes he is,” Gina nodded. “One of the reasons he’s my ex.”

“He does put on a good show, though.”

“Yeah, it was okay,” Gina admitted, trying not to let on that his voice was still perfect and occasionally sent her hormones swirling in ways she’d rather they didn’t, regardless of his questionable choices in facial hair.

“It’s so strange to hear such an angelic voice come out of a man who looks like an aging backpacker. At least without the beard he had the sweet face, now he’s just a surly old man.”

“I must have words with him,” Gina nodded. “I wanted to punch him in the throat, but I’d need hedge clippers to find it.”

“The beard does make him look a little bit distinguished, at least.”

“You mean it’s grey and he looks old?”

“That’s probably it,” Moonstar nodded.

Gina looked across the room to see that the staff were starting to shoo the stragglers out of the venue. “I guess we should try to find the boys.” Moonstar nodded and they stood up and stretched. “You have any hedge clippers handy?” Gina asked with a smile, and Moonstar shoved her towards the door.

When they finally made it out to the street, they were surprised to find a crowd had gathered at the side of the theatre. They wandered over to see what the commotion was. Paul and Steven were standing on a loading dock, Steven cradling his guitar as Paul yelled at the people in the crowd to gather closer. Moonstar and Gina sneaked into the throng as Paul was trying to teach them how to sing a background tune of do-do-dos that devolved into him yelling at them for being old and lacking in rhythm. Gina smirked at the memory of Paul’s tequila song and shook her head at him.

“Not so loud,” Paul snapped at the crowd, “we’re the talented ones, don’t make us sing over yas!”

“Alright, let’s do it!” Steven cheered and began strumming his guitar. Paul directed the audience in their do-do-dos for a couple of bars. He caught Gina’s eye and he winked at her from behind his thick glasses as he began to sing.

“I think I like you, ‘cause you like the same bands that I do,

You like sleeping in and hanging out and sniffing glue

You’re so old school, you’re so old school”

“Does he really sniff glue?” Moonstar whispered as the crowd did a few more bars of do-do-dos.

“He’s certainly done worse. Nothing rhymes with ‘accidentally snorting sugar,’ though.”

“Fair enough.”

“I think I like you, ‘cause you like the same things that I do Like crimson lake and lightning strikes and Yves Klein blue You’re so obscure, you’re so obscure With a word you shape your pretty ponies into golden mongooses—”

“I fucking hate you,” Steven yelled, but Paul ignored him and kept singing.

“He’s nuttier than vegan cheese,” Moonstar said pointedly.

“Did you just compare my ex-husband to cashew cheese?”

“Yes. I’m not sure what it says about any of us.”

“Me neither,” Gina sighed.

When the chorus came around again, Paul managed to get the words right: With a word you shape your pretty ponies into golden horses, and Steven grumbled, “Thank you Jesus.”

At the end of the song, Paul did a number of ostentatious bows and then directed the crowd to fuck off home and get out of the cold. “Not you, Coleman,” he yelped as Gina stepped out of the way of the people who were starting to drift back towards parking lots and taxi ranks.

“You’re not my real mother,” she shouted back.

“Fine, stay out here and fuckin’ freeze,” he teased and headed back towards the stage door. Gina and Moonstar waited a bit for the crowd to thin, then headed up the ramp to the door. Steven was just inside putting his guitar away, and Paul was nowhere to be seen.

“I’m glad you made it,” Steven gushed when he noticed Gina and rushed to give her a hug.

“My friend Moonstar here thought it was a good idea,” Gina explained by way of introduction. “Moonstar, you know Steve.”

“Nice to meet you…Moonstar?” he said uncertainly as he shook her hand.

“You too,” she blushed.

“Paul mentioned you might come to the show,” Steven continued, turning back to Gina. “He’s just making himself pretty.”

“This could take awhile,” Gina smirked. “So how’s the tour going?”

“Oh, y’know, it’s fine, same as always. Although I’m used to touring with Tripod, we get a younger, nerdier crowd, out with Paul there’s a lot of fawning middle-aged housewives, and I’m choosing not to think about what that says for our careers.”

“Well, Paul’s basically a middle aged housewife.”

“It’s possible he’s going through menopause,” Steven mused.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Gina smirked. “What’s he done now?”

“He’s just acting really weird?”

“How can you tell?” Moonstar asked before she could stop herself.

“Can I just ask,” Steven began cautiously, “what’s with the rat?”

“The rat?” Gina echoed.

“The dead thing he carries around like a security blanket?”

“Oh, you mean Troy!”

“That’s the one!”

“Troy is an integral part of our familial unit,” Gina said with all the sincerity she could muster. “He’s seen us through some of our roughest times, he’s like the child we never had. I imagine that’s where Paul got the inspiration for the beard.”

“So then you’re both crazy,” Steven nodded. “Got it.”

“You have no idea,” Moonstar sighed just as Paul came around a corner wearing a clean shirt.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come,” he cheered in his most grownup tone, giving Moonstar a quick, perfunctory hug before reaching for Gina and giving her a much more lingering embrace.

“Not the first time he’s said that to you, I’m sure,” Steven chirped. Paul pulled away from Gina to glare at Steven. “I’ll see myself out,” he laughed and went into the dressing room.

“I’m only here to punish you properly and in person,” Gina announced as she gave Paul a thwack in the arm.

“Punish me? What for?” he pouted as he dramatically rubbed his arm.

“What have you done to yourself,” Gina snapped in response.

“You don’t like it?” he asked as he grinned, stroking his beard.

“You look like you’ve just come down from a mountain after three years of communing with bears and living off grass and roasted lizards.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snorted. “We had fruit, too. Yogi makes a great pavlova.”

Moonstar stifled a giggle while Gina leveled her glare at him, unimpressed.

“Did you come here just to mock my fashion choices?” he demanded.

“I consider the beard more of a personal hygiene issue, I haven’t even gotten to the fashion choices.”

“Go on then,” he urged with what she guessed would be a smirk if it weren’t for the beard.

“The grandpa shirt and the vest? I’ve seen you better dressed in the basement of a mafia hideout.”

“Not this again,” Moonstar sighed and moved further into the building in hopes there might be more wine.

“I’m trying to decide if this is what happens when you don’t have a woman in your life to keep you in line, or if it’s your psyche finally realizing that you’re not actually 25 anymore, after spending three decades pretending you are, and overcompensating.”

“Definitely the second one,” he said. “I don’t think any woman ever really kept me in line.” She narrowed her eyes at him, and he gave her another playful wink.

“I thought you vowed never to be seen in public in your coke-bottle glasses, too?”

“Don’t mock an old man’s decrepitude,” he pouted in his elderly-man voice as he slowly hunched over. “It gets hard for these feeble hands to operate those new-fangled contact lenses, and I can’t hardly see to put ‘em in anymore!”

“This is all just you being a lazy arse, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, basically,” he agreed, perking back up. “If you wanted, you could always take me home and clean me up?”

“When’s your next show?”

“Day after tomorrow. Up the coast a ways.”

“Yeah, not enough time, I’d need at least 3 days to sort out whatever this is.” She gestured up and down his entire body. “I mean the shaving alone…”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled as Steven and Moonstar appeared. Moonstar had found a plastic cup full of red wine and a stack of biscuits from somewhere, and looked quite pleased with herself.

“Hey McDermott, we’re heading to the hotel, are you gonna come with, or…?”

“I can always get a cab back,” Moonstar began.

Paul glanced back at Gina with what looked like a glimmer of hope behind the thick lenses. “No, you should go,” she urged. “I imagine it’s past your bedtime by now, isn’t it grandpa?”

“She doesn’t like the beard either, huh?” Steve teased.

“I can’t believe I ever found you attractive,” Gina said with a disappointed shake of her head.

“You don’t mean that,” Paul said with a pout that no one could see.

Gina ignored him. “Steve, good luck with the rest of the tour and the middle-aged housewives, take care of Paul because he clearly can’t take care of himself, and try to be nice to Troy.”

“Yes ma’am,” Steven replied with a salute.

“Paul,” she began, and he turned to her with wide, pleading eyes. “Be good.”

“That’s no fun,” he grumbled as he reluctantly moved closer to give her a goodbye hug.

“I just mean don’t get kidnapped or arrested,” she said into his shoulder, “and for god’s sake, do something about this beard, it makes you look 20 years older.”

“You’re just jealous,” he shot back as he reluctantly let her go.

“Yes, Paul, I’m jealous of your old man beard.”

“See, I told you,” he beamed at Steven.

“I’m getting on the bus,” Steven grunted. “It was good to see you, Gina, nice to meet you, Moonstar. Come on Pauly, you don’t want to keep the weasel waiting!”

“Mongoose!” Paul, Gina and Moonstar all shouted at once.

“For fuck’s sake,” Steve mumbled

Fenny sighed and looked across the table at the top of Lilly’s head. Lilly had refused to get up at 6am to have waffles with her and Brad before he had drive to Phoenix to catch his plane. She’d dragged Lilly out of bed at nearly 11, shoved her into the shower, and insisted they were going out for lunch – if they were going to be spending so much time together alone, she was going to get the girl to function as a human. So far it hadn’t worked, and Lilly had spent every moment with her head down, furiously tapping away at her phone.

“Hello ladies,” a waitress chirped suddenly. “I’m Stephanie and I’ll be your server today, can I get you started with something to drink?”

“I’ll just have a glass of water, please,” Fenny said with a polite smile, then glanced over to Lilly, who didn’t even look up. “Lilly.”

“Diet Coke,” she grunted.

“Really?” Fenny grumbled.

Lilly looked up with an exasperated look on her face. “What?!”

“Rude!” With a roll of her eyes, Fenny turned her attention back to the waitress, who looked concerned. “A diet Coke for the zombie, please.”

The waitress smiled. “No problem. I’ll give you a few minutes?”

“Thank you,” Fenny sighed. Lilly had already gone back to her phone. “You haven’t even looked at your menu.”

Lilly let out a frustrated huff and grabbed her menu dramatically. Her huff turned into a frown. “What even is this stuff?”

“What do you mean?”

“Tempeh? That’s not a thing.”

“I thought you were vegan?”

“Soy paste?” Lilly said, wrinkling her nose at the thought.

“I drove twenty miles to find a vegan restaurant for you.”

“This one’s made of non-GMO plant-based protein.”

“Just get the veggie burger, it’s probably safe, looks like it’s made out of beans.”

Lilly finally looked up. “You think?”

Fenny shrugged. “Probably goes well with the avocado smoothie.” Lilly wrinkled her nose again, dropped the menu, and went back to her phone. “Alright, we’re done,” Fenny snapped, and reached across the table to snatch the phone away.

“Oh my god, what the actual hell!” Lilly gasped, and Fenny dropped the phone face down on the table next to her.

“No phone for an hour.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Fine. I’ll add my phone to the stack. Now it’s fair.” Lilly folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes. “This is the real world,” Fenny continued as she gestured around the patio towards to the mountains in the distance. “It has real people, and sunshine, and stupid looking birds.”

“You expect me to get excited about birds and cactus? I have birds and cactus at Mom’s house, and at Dad’s house.”

Stephanie reappeared and Fenny ordered two veggie burgers, not trusting Lilly to speak with any amount of civility, and when a phone buzzed, she couldn’t stop Lilly from grabbing them both from the corner of the table.

When the waitress left, Lilly held up a phone accusingly. “Why did someone just tweet the word ‘fellatio’ at you?”

Fenny snatched it up hurriedly, terrified that Brad had somehow gotten drunk on a 3-hour plane ride, but she let out a groan when she realized what had happened. “Because your Uncle Greg is an idiot.”

“He’s so not my uncle.”

“Anyone who changed your diaper gets to be an honorary uncle.”

“He never changed my diaper!”

“There are photos.”

“I am high key grossed out right now,” Lilly grunted, clearly horrified. “Wait, why is Uncle Greg tweeting ‘fellatio’ at you? I can’t even.”

“I’m doing a promotional art project where people send me a word and I do a typographic illustration of it, and Greg is an idiot who thinks he’s funny. I’m expecting ‘cunnilingus’ from McDermott any minute now. Wait, no, that’s not what it sounded like.”

“Ugh, why do you old people have to think about sex!”

“Hey, I’m not old!” Lilly raised an eyebrow and for a moment Fenny was shocked at how much she looked like Brad. “Wait, how old do you think I am?”

“Dad’s practically 60.”

“He’s 52!”

“Whatever. So then you’re like 50, right?”

“I’m 47, thank you.”

“That’s, like, way too old for sex.”

Fenny couldn’t help but smirk. “Oh sweetie, you have no idea.”

Lilly looked away for a moment, then started whistling the chorus to “Tonight I’m Gonna Rock You Tonight” and Fenny couldn’t stop the blush from rising up over her ears.

“What did, I mean did you, how…” Fenny stuttered.

“God, you don’t even know how to use your Alexa,” Lilly whined. “She records everything you say to her, it goes on the app on your phone.”

“What are you doing on my Amazon account?” Fenny grumbled.

“Dad lets me use the Alexa for help on my homework.”

The waitress appeared with their bean burgers that were somewhat less than appetizing. Fenny thanked her anyway and grabbed at her phone anxiously. She opened the Alexa app, and for the first time, she noticed the list of results. At the top of the list was the song Brad had played to wake her up that morning, “I Wanna Be Your Dog” by the Stooges, and before that, a request that the volume be turned up. Before that was the question, “Is macaroni salad vegan,” which was presumably Lilly coming home to find the adults already in bed, then raiding the fridge and consulting the Alexa in the kitchen. Before that, “How do I divorce my parents.” Before that was a note apologizing for not understanding the question. Working up all her courage, Fenny clicked on the box to expand it for more details.

There was even a button to play back what Alexa had heard, which was not to be contemplated. Fenny was horrified beyond all measure and decided she would abandon all technology and live in a cave for the rest of her life. But after the briefest moment of thought, she took a screenshot that captured the divorce query, the NSFW talk and Brad’s sexy playlist, then flipped over to Twitter to post it with the caption, “Said enthusiastic goodbye to hubby who’s traveling for work. Babysitting 16y/o stepdaughter. She has the Alexa password. Oops.”

Once she’d finished, Fenny realized that Lilly had taken the opportunity to snatch her phone back, and for once Fenny couldn’t yell at her. Until Lilly perked up suddenly with a wry smile that Fenny didn’t trust at all. Lilly looked over her shoulder, and a young man with a man-bun and a tribal tattoo around his bicep gave her a wave. She giggled and did an elaborate hair flip in return. “What is happening?” Fenny demanded.

“That’s Chris. He just AirDropped me his number.”

“He what?!” Fenny’s phone buzzed and she glanced down irritatedly. Paul had replied to her most recent tweet. How about ‘cunnilingus’. Then, a moment later, Whoops, wrong tweet! “God I need a nap,” she groaned.

“Sorry not sorry,” Lilly smirked.

Gina had just changed into her pajamas and gotten into bed when there was a knock at the door. She glanced at the clock and let out a groan as she rolled out of bed. “Paul,” she whined as she threw open the door, “it’s after midnight.”

He thrust the mongoose up at her. “Troy wanted a conjugal visit.”

She put her hand on her hip and thought for a moment. “The mongoose can stay, but you should go.”

Paul pulled Troy back to his chest. “Is there something I should know about you two?”

“We’ve been meaning to tell you for ages….”

“Come on, Genie, let us in, it’s late and Troy is afraid of hotel rooms after all the trauma he’s suffered.”

“What traumas has Troy suffered?”

“The beatings, the daring rescue missions, the sexual abuse, the beatings, the drug running, the poker games, and did I mention the beatings?”

“None of that happened to Troy.”

“No, but he witnessed it.” Paul stroked the mongoose’s fur soothingly. “He’s got PTSD by proxy.”

“I’m glad you two have each other.”

“Genie, can’t you — gaaaah!” He leapt into the doorframe as Chip the kitten pounced onto his left sneaker unexpectedly. “Always with the fuckin’ menagerie over here.” The cat was not deterred by Paul’s outburst and started to stalk the other shoe. “Why do you keep vicious beasts as companions?”

“I like having something around to keep me on my toes. Mafia bosses, idiot entertainers, skittish kittens, y’know, a challenge.”

“He doesn’t seem that skittish to me,” Paul grunted as Chip wrapped himself around his ankle with claws from all four paws.

“He hasn’t gotten a good look at you yet. I’m not sure what would scare him more, Troy or your beard.”

“No, look, he likes me!” Chip was starting to purr as he batted at Paul’s shoelaces.

“He’s also dumb as a bag of hammers.” The kitten let out a tiny mew in protest

“Well he is a blond.”

“Not helping your case, McDermott.”

“Did I say blond? I meant ginger. He’s definitely ginger.”

“He just wants fed now that he’s awake.”

“Troy wants pancakes for breakfast.”

“What’s Troy planning on doing to earn them?”

“He promises not to watch.”

Gina rolled her eyes and stepped aside to let him in. “Get in here you idiot.”