But, of course she did. She told us to get dressed and come home. We went to wash up. The pizza was good, but the conversation was not. In fact, there...was no conversation until after we had finished eating. "So, how was it?" Aunt Millie said. Angela stared at her plate. "Fine," I said. "We like pizza." "That's good, but I was talking about your fuck!"Angela burst into tears again. "Was it that bad?" Aunt Millie asked. "It looked pretty good from where I was standing. You must have enjoyed it. Instead, she gave me a solemn look. ‘Would you like to know why you must drink from only here, where my lips have been?’ she asked and I felt it building. There would be a sage-like bit of advice. A moment of sincerity like dessert to the meal of our mirth. I nodded, waiting for it. ‘Because otherwise it’s messy,’ she said, planting her lips on the far side of the glass, tipping it and pouring champagne down her front. I should have seen it coming. It was an old joke well played and ended with. More

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