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Her mom burst out laughing. “People love them.”
“People are weird.” Her dad set the bags of food on the counter and Merry twisted her hands in front of her.
“Dad…are you mad?”
Her dad sent her a quizzical look as he pulled out a tray of tater tots. “Why would I be mad? If someone wants a stuffed johnson to play with, who am I to judge.”
Holly let out an excited cry. “Johnsons! That’s what you should call them.”
“That’s a cute name. What about Jolly Johnsons by Merry? Adult-themed plushies and crafts,” her mom said.
Merry’s cheeks warmed, getting caught up in their enthusiasm. “I love it!”
“And I love that,” Holly said, pointing at her dress. “Don’t even bother with the other. That is the one.”
“I agree,” their mom said.
Their dad picked up a dick plushie with a grin. “Do I get royalties for the name?”
“I’ll tell everyone who asks that my dad came up with my business moniker.”
“Nah, you can just leave me out of it,” her dad said, kissing her forehead. “You girls have fun plotting more wacky products the world doesn’t need. I’m going to find a place to eat my burger that isn’t covered in bow tie-sporting wieners.”
Chapter 22
Clark
Clark shrugged into his suit jacket and left it hanging open, his white shirt and red tie pressed and smooth. Merry didn’t know it yet, but he’d booked reservations at the Mistletoe Lodge right after the family pictures last Sunday. She’d suggested they stay in at her place so he could be close by if Jace needed him, but something made him hesitate to break the reservation, and now that Jace was on the mend, he was glad he hadn’t.
He walked out of his bedroom and when he cleared the hallway, Sam and Jace turned away from their movie and his brother whistled.
“Whew, you clean up purty. Do a spin for us.”
“I’m not doing that,” he said with a laugh, slipping his phone into his pocket. “What are you two watching?”
“The Nightmare Before Christmas.”
“Ah, not sad about missing that one.”
“My dad doesn’t like all the singing,” Jace clarified.
“But the tunes are so catchy.” Sam belted out a bar and Jace giggled.
“Can you pause it for me so I can talk to my son?”
Sam climbed to his feet. “Sure, I gotta piss anyway.”
“That’s fifty cents!”
“What? Piss is a bodily function. Not a bad word.”
“You said b-a-l-l-s earlier and you just said the p-word again. Three words at twenty-five cents is seventy-five cents. Don’t make me charge you a penalty tax.”
Sam dropped three quarters in the jar as he passed. “Penalty tax, where did he come up with that?”
“Victoria.” Clark smirked.
“Corrupting America’s youth.” Sam shook his head and left the room.
