The next message was from my mom. “What in the hell do I…

““The next message was from my mom. “What in the hell do I have to do to get my children to call me?” She was missing Chucky. I yelled from my bedroom, “Chuck, did you call Mom back?” He came and stood in the doorway of my room. Through a yawn, he said, “Yeah, she’s having empty-nester pains.” “That’s pathetic. I figured it was more about you than me.” “Your boy had a shitty game.” “I heard,” I said. “Are you working tomorrow?” “No, I don’t work on Sundays. It’s a holy day.” Chucky choked on his Kombucha. “You are the poster child of goodness and virtue.” I was brushing out my hair and inspecting the balayage I had done on it the day before. “I thought you were gonna start being nicer to your landlord?” I said. “Your hair looks good, Charlotte. Seriously. You kind of look like Lily Aldridge now.” “Who’s that?” “Some famous chick.” When Chucky left the room, I immediately Googled Lily Aldridge. She was a model and married to a rock star. I walked over to Chucky’s room, where I found him dozing off in bed. I walked right up to him and smacked him in the head. “What are you doing?” he shouted. “You can’t call me Fatbutt and then say I look like freakin’ Lily Aldridge.” “Okay,” he whined. “I take it back. You look like you ate Lily Aldridge.” “Fuck you, Chucky.” As I walked back to my room he called out, “Love you, Fatbutt!””

— Renee Carlino