Chapter 3: Aunt Cloe

“Hey Mom, I’m back!” Andy called as he walked through the door, holding a cake in one hand.

“Hey Andy, thanks for getting the cake. Cloe should be here any minute. Could you make the tea?” Mom asked as she unpacked groceries.

“Sure thing, Mom,” Andy replied, heading to the kitchen to set up the water kettle. As he moved, he noticed a curious look in her eye.

“Interesting book you’ve got there, Andy. I didn’t peg you for being interested in this kind of novels,” she remarked.

“Yeah, me neither,” Andy admitted with a chuckle. “But I’m already halfway through, and it’s actually pretty good. The story and the characters are really interesting. We got it in literature class from Ms. Parker today.”

“Ms. Parker? Isn’t she the new teacher?” Mom asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Yup, that’s the one. I ran into her just before I got home. She moved here in the area last month,” Andy explained, filling the kettle with water.

“Oh, that’s nice. I remember her as a nice lady,” Mom replied, smiling.

“She is. I even offered to help her with some weedening in her garden,” Andy said nonchalantly.

“Really?” Mom raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “I know you love gardening but getting rid of weeds was never your first choice.”

Andy grinned, “Well, it’s not exactly my favorite hobby, but she’s alone and new here. Plus, if I can help her out, maybe she’ll go easy on grading my next test,” he joked, winking at his mom.

Mom laughed, shaking her head. “Always thinking ahead, aren’t you?” She paused. “So, have you found yourself a girlfriend yet?”

I frowned, feeling a bit uncomfortable. “Huh? No, mom, why would you ask that?”

“A mother has to know,” she replied with a sly grin. “And I bet your Aunt Cloe will ask too.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes theatrically. “You’re the only woman I need, Mom,” I declared, hoping to dodge her question. Mom gave my cheek a light pat. “For the time being, Andy, for the time being.” Then we moved on to a different subject.

Cloe arrived shortly afterward, looking fabulous in her jeans and light pink T-shirt, which complemented her brunette hair perfectly. I greeted her with a warm hug, and she hugged me back tightly. We chatted and laughed until the cake was served. “So, how’s my favorite nephew doing?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with affection.

“I’m your only nephew, Auntie,” I reminded her with a playful grin.

“Anyway, what’s new in your life?” Cloe inquired.

“He’s reading a lesbian romance,” my Mom chimed in, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Really?” Cloe looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “Developing a kink?”

I blushed, feeling my cheeks grow warm. “It’s for school!”

“Sure, show me a man that isn’t dreaming about watching some lesbian action, and I’ll show you a gay man,” Cloe joked, winking at me.

I grinned at Cloe, shaking my head. “You know you’re funny.”

Cloe giggled, her eyes twinkling with mirth. “Thank you, dear.”

As we savored the delicious cake, Cloe regaled us with tales from her life as a chef stewardess on a major airline. She shared hilarious anecdotes about her flights and the exotic destinations she’d visited, keeping us entertained throughout the meal.

“So this teacher of yours—Ms. Parker, right? You like her, don’t you?” Cloe asked with a sly smile.

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair and scratched the back of my neck. “Well, she’s a great teacher,” I replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Cloe wasn’t letting me off the hook that easily. “And ... good-looking too?” she pressed, leaning in a bit closer.

I felt my cheeks heat up. “Err ... yeah, I guess so?” I stammered, desperately hoping the subject would change.

“Oh come on now, you don’t have to guess!” Cloe teased, her playful tone making it clear she was enjoying this.

I laughed nervously, the embarrassment more evident than ever. “Alright, alright, I think she looks great—but she’s almost 30 years old!”

Cloe’s eyes twinkled. “As old as your mom and I. Do you think I’m not hot anymore, Andy?”

I sighed, realizing I was cornered. “No way, Auntie, you’re stunning,” I said honestly.

Cloe’s laugh rang out, obviously happy. “Oh please, are you buttering me up?”

I shook my head, smiling. “Never! You know I can’t lie to you!”

Cloe winked. “Smart answer, kiddo. You’re catching on!”

Cloe suggested, “Maybe we should invite your teacher for tea too, so you can have more time with her, Andy.”

I felt my cheeks flush and quickly tried to change the subject. “Please, Cloe, can we please talk about something else?”

But my aunt wasn’t one to let things go so easily. “Sure - back to the lesbian stories you read,” she teased.

Seeing an opportunity, I shot back playfully, “You seem to be more interested in the topic than I, Auntie. Anything we need to know?” To my surprise, Cloe backed off, and I caught her and Mom exchanging a curious glance.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, filled with laughter and good-natured ribbing.

We settled in the living room, the three of us lounging on the couch. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over everything. Mom decided to get the poker cards from the drawer.

As we shuffled the deck, Cloe leaned back, a sly grin on her face. “Ready to lose, Andy?” she teased.

“Not a chance,” I shot back, winking at her. “I’ve got skills.”

Mom laughed softly. “We’ll see about that.”

We started playing, and the banter flowed as freely as the iced tea on the table.

Cloe arched an eyebrow after winning a hand. “So, Andy, what’s your biggest secret?”

“Nice try,” I said, smirking. “You’ll have to beat me fair and square for that one.”

Mom chimed in with a smirk. “Maybe he’s hiding more romance novels under his bed.”

I rolled my eyes. “You two are relentless.”

A few rounds in, Cloe leaned forward. “Poker is no fun without wagers. We should raise the stakes.”

Intrigued, I inquired, “How much?”

“What do you usually bet?” she countered.

“Usually nothing. Why?”

Cloe pondered for a moment, idly shuffling the deck of cards. “Well, let me see...”

Cloe leaned back in her chair. “Ever played strip poker?” she asked nonchalantly, as if they were discussing the weather. Mom’s eyes widened, and she let out a shocked gasp. “Cloe!”

“What? He’s old enough, and I don’t see you suddenly being the prude here. I remember you were the first one to suggest a game of strip poker when we were younger.”

Mom blushed, her cheeks turning a rosy shade. “Yes, but that was before Andy was born.”

“You were even younger than him now. That means he is old enough, isn’t he?” Cloe pressed, her grin growing wider.

Mom sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “But I want him to stay innocent forever.”

“Oh, come off it, Mom,” I chimed in, unable to resist the teasing.

“Okay,” Mom relented, her voice resigned. “Strip Poker it is. But first, I need more wine.” Cloe was up in a flash, fetching an entire bottle of red wine. She winked at me as she poured Mom a generous glass. “Andy, give me the cards.”

I handed her the deck of cards. “Here, take these and deal.”

Mom laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Now that sounds like a challenge.”

The cards were dealt with excitement, the air thick with the thrill of Texas Hold’em under our unusual rules. Skin was the stake, and if you lost your chips you had to buy them back by losing an article of clothing. Laughter and teasing filled the room as each hand was played.