“Am I the only one who’s tired of hearing Chad Woodcock stories in the middle of our meetings?” my sister asked. “I mean, my god Dani, either bang him or move!”
“Ugh.” I fake vomited. “I would rather watch Thomas the Tank Engine blow snot bubbles than bed that parasitic worm.”
“Tell us how you really feel,” Charlie chuckled.
“Fine,” Simone huffed. “Whatever you say. But let’s agree to hold all Woodcock chatter until after the meeting from now on.”
“It is after the meeting,” I replied. “You asked, ‘Is there any other business?’ and we all shook our heads. See? Over.”
“Actually, the meeting is never over until the president adjourns it. I’m the president, and I didn’t adjourn it. And just FYI, Dani, that whole sordid story you told is now a matter of public record.”
I glanced around at my silent brothers. They were all looking away. Cowards. She wasn’t even that scary.
“No, it’s not,” I challenged.
“Yes, it is. Your tiff with Chad is part of the minutes now, and as such, it is open for all members of the organization to read.”
“Except”— I held up a finger—“I’m the secretary, and I wasn’t taking notes.”
“Which, I might add, is a derelict of your duties,” Simone shot back.
Not ready to concede defeat, I said, “Duties that were assigned to me out of no fault of my own.”
Simone narrowed in on me, annoyed. She liked being in control even more than I did. Even more than Chad… or King Joffrey.
“My god, Simone,” Conrad grumbled, finally having had enough of her dictorial ways. He reached over, grabbed her tiny wooden gavel, and thumped it against the table. “There, it’s over. Problem solved.”
Simone’s eyes doubled in size. She ripped the gavel from Conrad’s hand. “No one, and I mean no one, touches the gavel.”
She proceeded to tap it on the table three times.
“Whew.” Conrad stretched out in his chair. “Now anything we say can’t be used against us in the court of Simone law.”
“There are rules, Conrad. If you don’t like them, you’re free to go.”
“Am I?”
“Actually, yes. I don’t recall ever asking you to join, so bon voyage.”
From the look on Conrad’s face, he wasn’t going anywhere. “I don’t know if I say this enough, but you’re the most annoying human I’ve ever met.”
“And you make me want to sanitize up to my elbows.”
I laughed, glancing around the table at the siblings I hadn’t known existed only two short years ago. Now, as irritating as some of them might be, I wouldn’t trade any of them for the world… okay, maybe Simone and Donny and Landry… but not the rest of them. Say what you would about my father’s unorthodox choices, but he’d done something very right—he’d inadvertently brought these quirky siblings into my life.
And there were more. Enough, in fact, to form our own organization, the Lucky Swimmers Club, and have an actual governing board, which the five of us at this table were a part of. The LSC was an organization committed to the cause of uniting every last one of Donor 649’s offspring. And as Simone maintained, equally as important was to keep the riffraff wannabees out—as if there were a backlog of twenty-somethings clamoring to be a part of our sticky society.
But how could I argue with her methods? It was Simone who’d set up our Facebook page. And Simone who’d arranged the first annual ‘swim’ meet and greet. And Simone who’d created the ruling body of the organization, claiming the role of president for herself even though no one had asked for a leader. When it came time to pick her cabinet members, it really just depended on how close you were in proximity to her when the positions were being assigned. I just happened to be walking by, and bam! Suddenly, I was Dani—the Lucky Swimmers’ secretary.
Ross and Charlie had similar stories to mine. They’d committed the grave error of being seated beside her when Simone began asking for volunteers. Ross became vice president and Charlie, treasurer. Not that I was complaining. It was certainly no hardship to spend time with my two identically dreamy sperm brothers. Whoever said that guys made in a petri dish couldn’t be drop-dead gorgeous had never met the Kosinski brothers. See, while most of us had inherited an acceptable mix of DNA, or at least enough that small children didn’t scurry away in fear, the Kosinski twins proved that not all semen was created equal. I could only assume our father had been well rested and feeling fine the day he’d strode into the clinic and jacked out my glorious brothers.
Sure, Charlie and Ross were attractive men, and yes, I was sometimes mesmerized by their charm, but my interest in the Kosinski boys was purely platonic—despite what some of my coy coworkers might have you think. Believe me, I understood well that the twins were off-limits. And not the type of off-limits one might find in a daring romance novel either. No, Charlie and Ross were the type of off-limits that produced children that looked like the monster in The Goonies.
And then there was Conrad— Sergeant of Arms—and the only member of the Lucky Swimmers’ governing board to have freely volunteered for the position. Why? None of us knew. He didn’t seem to enjoy coming to the meetings, and his ‘duties’ consisted mainly of taking the opposite opinion of whatever decision the rest of us made.
Unlike the handsome and agreeable Kosinski twins, Conrad had that gloomy, WTF factor going on. Where Ross and Charlie were easy on the eyes, Conrad was… well… not. Or, if he was, it couldn’t be determined under the dark eye makeup, black slicked-back hair, and signature trench coat—an accessory that had the ability to clear a room of skittish onlookers. I’ll admit to having checked for the nearest exit when I’d first met him too.
Certainly, Conrad wouldn’t have been Simone’s first choice for a board member—or her last, either—but when no one else stepped up, Count Dracula did. No doubt he’d only volunteered because he knew no one wanted him—a challenge, if you will. He wanted us to kick him out, to prove we weren’t the inclusive group we claimed to be. But Simone refused to play his game. She wasn’t like me, the dum-dum who wasted way too much time giving fuel to Chad’s fire. She’d invited Conrad in. Made him one of us. Kept her enemies close.
And a funny thing happened on his way to humanity. Conrad softened. His scowl relaxed. His heart started beating. Maybe, like the rest of us, he just needed a place where he could belong.
I glanced down at my phone, checking the time. Oh, good. I still had two hours before the date tonight. Just enough time to do something bouncy with my hair. The idea was that my mood would magically match my hairdo. I know, it was probably wishful thinking, but I had to try something because it had become clear after I’d accepted his movie date this morning that I really wasn’t feeling Jeremy at all. He was just—how could I put this nicely? He was just… blah.
I wished I could cancel the whole thing, but that would have been rude. Besides, in the era of online dating, where everyone wanted a hookup, you took notice when good guys came along. I was convinced that was Jeremy. So why, then, was I feeling so conflicted? I should want a good guy, right? But Jeremy? There was just no spark. Nothing at all. Maybe tonight. Maybe he would step up his game and absolutely knock me on my ass. If not, I was prepared to walk away.