My mother has terrible taste in men.
Or excellent taste, depending on how you look at it.
She’s been married three times. The first husband – my biological father – left before I could walk. The second was David, who raised me from age eight to sixteen. The third is Richard, who’s been in my life since I was seventeen.
Both of my stepfathers are here for my college graduation.
Both of my stepfathers have been looking at me in ways that aren’t entirely paternal for years.
And tonight, I’m done pretending not to notice.
Mom yawns at nine and disappears upstairs, leaving me alone with her current husband and her ex-husband.
I’m wearing a little black dress that’s too short, too tight, too much for a family dinner. I wore it on purpose. I’ve been teasing them all night – leaning forward
