“By accident when I was a teenager.”

“Oh.” Violet nods and relaxes. “I can only get it in, like, halfway, but it’s the head that counts—and the tongue action.”

Sunny hasn’t said anything. I’m assuming it’s because we’re talking about her brother’s penis and Violet putting it in her mouth. She twirls her blond hair around her finger and tilts her head. “I can get almost all of Miller’s peen in my mouth, but I don’t have a gag reflex, so that helps a lot.”

“Okay.” I clap my hands together. “What’s the plan? Where are we going first?”

“The house, of course!” Sunny says.

“Hell, yeah! We’re picking up Charlene on the way.” Violet swoops back into the driver’s seat.

Sunny and I get in the backseat, and after half an hour we stop at a very cute condo building close to the lake. Charlene comes running down the front steps and jumps into the front seat. “Are you trying to get Alex to take back the ring?”

“What?” Violet gives her a look.

“Why are you driving The Colonel?”

“It’s not The Colonel. I’ve renamed her Maxine, and Alex doesn’t know I’m driving her.” Violet waves her hand around in the air. “He’s not going to be home until late, so it’s fine.”

“I thought you said he lets you do whatever you want,” I say.

Violet glares at me through the rearview mirror. I’m not scared of her. She’s all words and no actual bite. She flips her ponytail over her shoulder and opens her mouth to speak.

“Anything except drive this car. Didn’t you scratch it last time?” Charlene asks.

“That was not my fault! That fire hydrant came out of nowhere.” Violet turns around and points a manicured finger at us. “Do not say anything to Alex about me driving this car unless you want me to sneak dairy into your dinner tonight.”

“I’m not a vegan. Only Sunny is.”

“And that would be a terrible thing to do, Violet. I haven’t eaten anything that comes from anything with a face in five years.” Sunny crosses her arms over her chest.

“I wouldn’t really do it. I’m just saying, don’t tell Alex or he’ll be pissed, and then he won’t give me naked beaver licks, and those are my favorite.”

“Violet!” Charlene smacks her on the arm.

“Ow! What?”

“Sunny’s here! She doesn’t want to hear about her brother licking your beaver.”

“My naked beaver.”

“No one cares if your beaver is naked or if it has a Mohawk or if you let it grow in for Movember,” Charlene says.

I say nothing. I’m thoroughly entertained.

Sunny’s not even paying attention. She’s too busy checking her phone for new messages. “Boo! Their flight doesn’t get in until five. Oh, wait. Maybe it’s two. Miller gets that mixed up a lot. Can someone else check?”

“It doesn’t matter what time they get in. We already have plans for tonight,” Violet says.

“Plans?” Sunny and I ask at the same time.

“We’re having a girl’s night in and sending the boys out for a few hours.”

“But they’re just getting back.”

“There’s a game on tonight, and they’re playing the team next week. They’re going to sit in front of the TV for three hours and talk strategy like they always do. I’m not interested in listening to that crap. So the plan is this: the guys come home, we send them to the pub while the game’s on—”

“Or Darren’s since he lives down the street,” Charlene interjects.

“Or Darren’s. Wherever has beer and better food. They come back after the game, and we can all disappear into bedrooms and enjoy some alone time.”

Sunny raises her hand.

“You don’t have to raise your hand, Sunny. You’re free to speak anytime,” Violet says.

“I haven’t seen Miller in two weeks. I’d like to have some alone time before he goes out to the pub. Or Darren’s.”

“No alone time before the pub,” Violet says.

“What? Why not?”

“Because that’s what they expect. Look, I know you’re all excited about moving here, Sunny, and you’re super in love with Buck, or Miller, or whatever you want to call him, but trust me; you need to make him wait for it.”

“She’s right.” Charlene nods her agreement.

“I only have a little more than a week here, so I’m not sure what the point is in making Randy wait,” I say.

Violet comes to a stop at a red light and points at me. Her nails are really nice. “You especially need to make him wait.”

“I don’t see why.”

“Because you need to make sure he gets that you’re not at his whim, that your beaver is a snowflake and should be treated as such.”

She’s not even making sense now. I stop arguing and let her rant. A few minutes later we pull up to the sweetest house I’ve ever seen. It’s two-stories of white clapboard with adorable gardens lining the front porch. Two solar panels are attached to the roof. The backyard is modest in comparison to her parents place in Guelph, and there’s no pool, but a dog run has been installed, and a small glass greenhouse sits at the back of the property.

Sunny cries. Violet pats her back and steers her inside, where we pop a bottle of champagne and take a tour of the four-bedroom home. It’s cozy and exactly the kind of place Sunny loves. Live plants inhabit every window, and dog beds are set up in the living room and Sunny’s bedroom, which has been outfitted with a brand new four-poster bed with a sheer curtain. It’s romantic and gorgeous.