Page 109 of Every Move You Make

At that very moment, Angie comes to join us. “You were? Oh, what scandal!” she sings, her eyes alight with zeal. “But wait,” she says, placing her hand on her brother’s arm. “So you’re telling me, your career playing rugby ended, but your career in love had just begun?” Angie’s daydreaming face is a sight to behold.

Isaiah’s eyes sharpen on her. “You read too much romance.”

“That’s not a thing.” When he doesn't reply, she turns her wide smile on me. “Do you want to join our book club? So far it’s just me and Joaquín.”

“I’d love to join.”

“Really?” she asks

“Sure.”

“We only read ro—”

“Smut,” Isaiah interrupts.

Angie’s lip hooks in a snarl. “Romance.”

Zofia slaps her wet hand against Rafael’s neck before he adds, “Last month they read about a minotaur with a breeding kink.”

I chuckle, “That sounds fascinating. I’m in.”

And it’s the truth. Maybe I’m doing what I’ve always done and diving in to something I know little about. But maybe I’m just listening to my instincts that are telling me these people are special and important. It’s impossible to miss the love they have for each other through jabs and eye rolls, smacks on the hand, and genuine interest they have in each other’s lives. It’s the family I’ve been missing since I moved away. The same family, really—just bigger. Louder. Less acres of land and whiskey barrels, more tacos and tight quarters.

Seriously, this house is small. How were five kids raised here?

It’s then that my eyes catch on the corner of a wall. There, scribbled in different colored pens and markers, are the heights of all the kids throughout the years. There’s one very pronounced tick mark about one foot off the ground with several years of dates listed, one after the other. For someone, probably something, named Razzle Dazzle.

I extend my foot and grab Isaiah’s attention. “Family pet?”

When he catches my meaning, he chuckles and nods. “The cat.” Suddenly an image of the entire family holding a cat in place so they can measure it assaults me with silent giggles. “He’s still around by the way. Angie has him.”

“How old is he?”

“Who, Razz?” Rafael asks. “He’s gotta be knockin’ on twenty-one at this point.”

There’s a quick ringtone from Isaiah’s pocket, and he pulls it out to scan the notification. It’s a long text message that he opens up.

“Who is it?” I ask.

“My old teammate, Kermit. He just started the rugby training program we thought of together.”

“It was your idea?”

“Both of ours. We had this idea to sort of actas consultants for teams that needed some dedicated focus in certain areas. Help them build.”

“That’s cool,” I say. “So he’s running the whole thing now?”

“Yeah,” he says despondently.

“You okay?”

He nods. “It’s just been an idea for so long. It’s surreal to see it become a real thing. He already has two teams he’s working with.”

Eventually we all find our seats for dinner, but there’s not enough room at the dining table, so we all scatter to any available spot. After two bites of steak tacos, I black out in a delicious haze and inhale several more rounds alongside Robyn, who meets me plate for plate. Are these homemade tortillas? They have to be.

When Isaiah finishes before us, he cleans up his plate and a few empty glasses before taking Nico from Angie’s arms. She looks relieved when she can finally eat alone. Zay sets Nico on the ground and then takes Zo from Rafael’s arms and does the same thing.

“Race ‘em,” Dane says from the couch, then pops off and joins his brother on the rug. They both stare down their niece and nephew.

---