Who Gets Your Room?

Memorial Day.
The hedge of honeysuckle was a green sea of white jellyfish, there were so many blossoms on it.
Before departing for the later part of the morning, Puck dumped out the freshly laundered blankets on the living room floor and made himself comfortable in their midst.
“Comfy,” he said happily. “Comfy.”
The four girls had spent their morning shopping, unsuccessfully, for Rose. They returned in time for OLeif’s grand brunch of homemade biscuits and gravy and honey butter, whipped eggs, and Joe-crafted fruit salad.
Later, all the kids were in the kitchen, discussing apartments in the Central West End.
“Is Carrie moving out?” Francis asked, laughing.
“Carrie’s moving out!” Joe exclaimed, flailing his arms. “Just kidding.”
“Oh, shaht up,” Carrie replied with a grin, using the usual Seven Years in Tibet German response.
“I get her room,” said Francis.
“No, I do,” said Linnea.
“I don’t have a room, Linnea.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No I don’t.”
“Carrie, who gets your room?”
“I leave it to… the strongest one,” Collette added, quoting Alexander the Great.
“Can’t you feel, the love tonight,” Carrie crooned. “Don’t get all excited about it, folks. I’m not leaving yet.”
“Rose, what are you doing?” Collette asked.
“My toes are going emo,” Rose replied, covering her toenails in permanent marker, which went nicely with the blisters from her new shoes.
“You’ll really rake in the boys with that,” said Joe.
And then somehow the conversation shifted to how women in Tibet had multiple husbands, which brought on multiple waves of groans.
After Collette and Carrie-Bri returned from Pier One, Puck and Linnea were having a pool party in the bathtub.
“Guys!” Carrie cried. “What happened to all my bubble bath?”
“Oops…” said Linnea, a little guiltily.
“The water’s purple you used so much,” Carrie said, laughing at the chubby baby laced up in a pair of Linnea’s old blue shorts.
There was a family barbecue for dinner, just as the thunder began its growling. The evening skies were working their way over in complete storm clouds, and the winds rustled the alarming green grasses and trees. Mom set out a spread of Dad’s grilled pork steaks, baked vegetables — peppers and squash, red beans and rice, and watermelon for dessert.
And while everyone else left to visit Grandpa, OLeif and Collette bundled the little Puck in the car for a return home just as the rain broke. Collette was happy that Puck liked storms too.