Page 115 of The Interview
“You know, what Ash said…”
“Where is Ash?” I ask, cutting off whatever she was about to say.
“Right here, bitches. You miss me?” Ash says from behind us.
“Where’ve you been? What were you doing out the front? Are you stoned?” I question, but before she can answer, it happens. The instant the first beat plays, both Cam and Len look our way.
“Yes!” Ash says, going straight to my utensil drawer. Whisk, steak mallet, egg slice. I bagsy the whisk and am standing up on our kitchen island before a single word has been sung.
“Fuck me, please do not fall and break the floor,” Marley says as he appears from who knows where, looking more stoned than Ash.
The three of us, all now side by side, up on my kitchen Island, flip him our middle finger before busting out the words to “Unwritten” by Natasha Bedingfield. For over twenty years, this has been our party piece. It started with the girls singing it to me, but now I own that fucking song and each and every one of those lyrics. By the end of it, we’re all a laughing, sobbing mess.
Cam helps me down. After wrapping my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck, I suddenly get the giggles, wishing it was my legs around his neck.
I’m just about to tell him this when my dad says, “Can someone turn the music down, please? I’ve got a few things I wanna say.”
“Go, Grandad,” Lu says.
“Where’s Kiks?” I ask, just realising my youngest twin is missing.
“Probably on the phone to her boyfriend,” George says. “They’re awake in America now.”
“What?” I question. “What boyfriend? He’s American?”
Lu gives George a slow hand clap, and he shrugs.
“I thought you two told her everything,” he says.
“Whether we do or don’t, it ain’t your business. And it’s not your news to tell,” she scolds.
“Who is he?” I ask
“Kai Carmichael,” George says.
“You are such a grass,” Lu tells him.
“Kai Carmichael?” I question. “Gracie’s stepson? Did you know?” I turn and ask Cam, but before I get an answer from anyone, I realise Ash is still standing up on the island all on her own, swaying her hips, singing into her mallet the words to Van Morrison’s “Brown Eyed Girl”.
“Get her down before she falls,” I say to Cam.
“Is anyone fucking listening to me?” my dad calls out.
“Where’s Marley?” Ash asks as her feet hit the floor. “Thanks, T, my saviour,” she tells my husband.
“See what I mean about conversations never getting finished in this family? It’s a wonder our kids haven’t all grown up with issues.”
“Paige!” pretty much all of us say in unison.
“Okay,” Jim says. “It’s a wondermoreof our kids haven’t grown up with issues.”
“Is someone gonna turn that fucking music down or what?” my dad shouts.
“Yeah, turn it down,” Marley says as he walks back into my kitchen with Makenzie Wild, Joe, and a tall, fair-haired bloke I assume must be Jake Wright.
His eyes meet mine, and my skin instantly prickles. That smile, those very blue eyes of his…
“Oh, my God,” Lu says. “Is that…?”
