Not Ready for Mom Jeans by Maureen Lipinski Read Free Book Online

are you so against Mark and Julie hanging out?” my mom asked.
    “Because I deal with enough drama in my life just trying to go to Target with Sara. The last thing I need is my brother and my best friend screwing each other and then screwing each other over,” I hissed, and narrowed my eyes at my brother.
    “No shit. Bad idea, my friend,” Jake said. He clapped Mark on the back and took a long drink of his beer.
    “What’s a bad idea?” Sam appeared at the top of the stairs. Apparently, her grieving period had ended.
    “Julie and Mark. Hey, how are you?” I surveyed her hair. She was right, it wasn’t attractive. I imagined she’d asked for a Jessica Simpson baby blond, but it turned out more like Pamela Anderson after about fifty hours in the sun.
    “Hel-lo, didn’t you hear? My hair is effing messed up. My life is basically ruined. God!” She collapsed on the stairs and leaned against the railing, her white hair falling around her face.
    “I don’t think it looks bad at all. I think it looks really cute!” I nodded my head, smiled, and tried to look sincere.
    “Oh, great, it really must be one hundred percent awful if you think it’s cute. You probably think Mom Haircuts are in style now,” my sister wailed from underneath a curtain of strawlike hair. “Why can’t you be like my friend Kristen’s sister? She’s awesome and works for as a buyer for Jimmy Choo.”
    “She’s so pleasant,” I said to my mom.
    “Sam, your sister is still very cool and hip, even though she’s a mom,” my mom called up the stairs.
    “OK, fiberglass mascara,” Sam said to me, her mascara-crusted eyes narrowing.
    “What?” I said, and leaned forward.
    “Fiberglass mascara. What is?” she repeated slowly, as though she was talking to a developmentally handicapped person.
    “I have no idea,” I finally said after a few moments. “Mascara with fiberglass in it?”
    “See?” Sam said pointedly to my mom. She stomped up the stairs. Seconds later, I heard “Crazy Game of Poker” blasting from her room.
    “O.A.R. I know that one!” I yelled up the stairs.
    “Don’t even try. Communication with Sam is futile. Much like communication with houseplants,” Mark said. “I got it!” he exclaimed, and raised his arms. “SAM! I FINALLY FIGURED OUT WHO YOU LOOK LIKE. REMEMBER BRITNEY SPEARS WHEN SHE HAD THOSE PLASTIC EXTENSIONS AFTER SHE SHAVED HER HEAD?” he yelled up the stairs.
    “THIS WHOLE FAMILY IS SERIOUSLY RETARDED!” Sam screamed from her room.
    “Mark!” My mom elbowed him in the ribs.
    “Ow. What? She does.” He rubbed his side.
    “Sam, you know I don’t like that word!” my mom called up to Sam, and what sounded like a shoe hit her closed door.
    “As much as I hate to leave this family party, Jake and I have to run,” I said.
    “OK, don’t worry about anything. Miss Sara and I are going to have a great time together. Jake, you’ll be back to pick her up later?” My mom turned to Jake as she kissed Sara’s head.
    “Yep, see you around midnight,” he said as she turned toward the door.
    “Sounds good. And Clare, good luck with the reading. Try to behave.” She narrowed her eyes at me.
    “Thanks. But Mom, it’s Julie. That’s kind of unlikely.” I shrugged.
    “Right,” she said.
    “Have Julie call me for phone sex when she’s wasted! Ow, what? Mom, I’m just kidding,” Mark yelled as I closed the door.
    Not a chance in hell.
    I parked my car on Julie’s street a good three hours later, still shaking with anger. Although I’m sure that man didn’t necessarily mean to have a tire blowout in the center lane of the expressway, it does not mean I didn’t want to roll down my window and spit on his car as I drove past. (Much like when my car crapped out in the middle of rush hour and someone threw a McDonald’s Big Mac at me while I was lifting the hood of my smoking car. Eye for an eye, no?)
    I stood in the entryway to Julie’s apartment building, freezing in the chilly