"And you didn't even tell us," she went on, completely ignoring the fact I'd spoken. "If you want to sow wild oats, at least have the courtesy to inform us."
"Like I just said, I didn't know this was a nudist resort. The travel agent screwed up. She told me 'naturist' meant birdwatching."
"How could I have raised such a naïve daughter?" Before I could respond, she barreled straight ahead. "And why didn't you tell us once you found out what sort of...resort you were staying at?"
Only my mom could make "resort" sound like this place was Sodom, Gomorrah, and Caligula's palace all rolled up together.
Apparently, I said that out loud---probably mumbled it, but Mom heard.
She huffed. "You know I don't understand all that young person slang."
"That's not young person slang, Mom. Sodom and Gomorrah are from the Bible, so as a devout Methodist, you really ought to know what I'm saying." I sat up straighter, because finally standing up to my mother made me feel emboldened and strangely energized. "And Caligula was the most depraved emperor in the entire history of the Roman Empire."
Her cheeks turned slightly pink. "Of course I know about Sodom and Gomorrah. But I thought Caligula was a reference to---I don't know. That's not the point, Mara. You have a lot of explaining to do."
"No, I don't." Wow, was that me saying those words? I sounded so...confident. Hanging around with nudists was good for me. "I'm happy to tell you all the fun things I've done since I came here, but I'm not going to justify myself to you. I didn't call to let you know about the mix-up because I knew you'd go crazy over it. And really, it's none of your business. I'm an adult."
"Then act like one."
Dad laid a hand on her arm. "Calm down, Sher. Mara is a strong, capable woman. It's about time we let her know we appreciate that and stop treating her like a child."
My father had never, ever contradicted my mother. She seemed as stunned as I was.
He took hold of her arms and turned her toward him. "I love you, Sheryl, but you can be a bit of a dictator. I've never spoken up about it because you never went this far before. Cut Mara some slack. She's a good girl, and she deserves better than a dressing-down from her mother."
Dad was right. Mom never had behaved like this before, so overtly hostile to my life decisions or my mistakes. She would primly inform me of what I should have done, but she did not get angry.
"Relax," my dad said to my mom. He kissed her forehead and smiled gently. "Let's have a normal, adult conversation with our daughter."
Mom let her head fall back and moaned, the way I often did. I'd never seen or heard my mother do that, though.
"All right," she said. "Let's go into the living room and have an adult conversation."
Ollie led us into the living room, where Mom and Dad settled onto the sofa side by side. I took the smaller of the two armchairs in the room, leaving Ollie with the bigger, much puffier one. He looked kind of silly sitting in that oversize chair, like a kid in a furniture store trying out all the big recliners. Though he looked outwardly silly, his demeanor and posture made him all man. His clothes clung to his body just enough to provide hints of the muscles underneath, muscles I had vivid memories of feeling pressed against me.
What I wouldn't have given to sneak off to the bedroom with him.
Instead, I sat there in an armchair with my feet on the floor and my hands clasped on my lap. I looked at my parents, not Ollie. My gaze did keep gravitating back to him, but I forced myself to focus on my parents.
Mom stayed ramrod straight, her hands on her lap, though she clasped hers much more primly than I clasped mine. She threw Ollie a sideways look before aiming her disapproving gaze at me. "How long have you known this young man? A few days?"
"Yes. We met on the day I arrived here." The day I'd freaked out and fainted in Ollie's arms. Yeah, I didn't plan on telling my parents about that.
"Days?" Mom's eyes widened, but to her credit, she calmed down within seconds. "Mara, I'm trying to understand this, I honestly am. But it's difficult to reconcile my obedient daughter with the woman I see before me today. You have been keeping company with...nudists."
"Naturists," Ollie said. "Some of us prefer to be called naturists."
Mom veered her squinty gaze to him. "Some ofus?"
Oh crap. If my mom figured out Ollie was a nudist, she would shanghai me back to Philly.
At the same moment I realized what he'd let slip, Ollie seemed to realize it too. He froze, not even blinking while he stared at me. After a couple seconds, he shook his head the tiniest bit and mouthed, "Sorry."
I shrugged, pretending to not panic about this even while my heart raced like an Olympic sprinter on speed.
And of course, Mom understood what was going on. She'd always had the uncanny ability to root out my secrets. Or in this case, Ollie's secret that had become mine too. We had kept the truth from only my parents.
Mom stared at Ollie. "You are a nudist. My daughter has been doing who knows what with a pervert who wears no clothes in public."