Page 44 of The Dysfunctional Family's Guide to Murder
Aunty Vinka gets it right away. “Finally, some good news.”
“Speaking of Perth,” Dad goes on, “I wanted to stay until Nick was out of the hospital, but that feels like a losing battle, so Ruth and I should probably head back today—ifthe cops say it’s okay. The boss left some pretty choice voicemails on my phone.”
Dad is a journalist, but not the cool kind who expose political scandals or interview celebrities. He mostly covers local government, although it’s hard to tell because I fall into a light coma every time he tries to bring it up. It’s that exciting.
“That’s fine.”
“I’m going into Margaret River this morning to talk to Gertie’s lawyer.” He gestures to a pile of papers arranged haphazardly on the kitchen counter next to where Rob is still messing around with his phone. “If we get the all clear we’ll hit the road this afternoon.” Dad looks at me and I nod.
This is good news (mostly) and I’m (mostly) happy to hear it. There’s only a small part of me (tiny) thinking about how my window for working out what really happened to GG is closing faster than my laptop browser window when Dad comes intomy bedroom. Sure, there’s nothing to stop me from working on what I’ve started to think of as the Case back in Perth, but it’s not the same. I know that once I have streaming and the internet and friends back in my life, even something as serious as the Case of the Murdered GG will slip away in favor of more solvable mysteries like Can I Pull Off Blunt Bangs? (I’ll solve this one for you right now: no.)
Shippy comes into the kitchen just as Dad is pouring out fresh coffee.
“Thanks.”
“It’s not for you, mate.”
Rob, who is now settled at the kitchen table, looks up. “Ship-man, I thought you’d died,” he says, apparently not realizing this might be in bad taste. “Enjoy the sleep-in?” Shippy just grunts. “I’ve got to run into town for a bit later. You got any plans to check out the water?”
Shippy looks across at Aunty Bec, but only for a moment. “Sure.”
Aunty Bec gets those two lines between her eyes that Mum gets when I’m doing something she disapproves of. “You’re going surfing?”
“Maybe I could at least check out the swell?” Shippy says hopefully.
Aunty Bec looks like she’s trying to communicate something with her eyes, possiblyHave you forgotten how well it worked out last time you went surfing?But all she says is: “Sure.”
Dylan disappears to the living room. A moment later the TV clicks on, and I make myself some toast and follow him.
“What are you looking for?”
“Death on the Nile,”he says, stopping his clicking when he sees Gal Gadot’s face on the screen.
“It’s pretty good, except for this stupid backstory—”
“No spoilers.” Dylan holds up a hand.
“The book is, like, fifty years old.”
“So’s your boyfriend, Sasha.”
I flop onto the other half of the couch, which creaks a bit more than is flattering. It doesn’t take me long to get pulled into the familiar story.
When it’s time for an ad (an ad! How did our parents ever live this way?), I decide to bring up the thing I’ve been thinking about all morning. I sit up on the couch and turn to face Dylan.
“What?”
“I’ve got a favor to ask.”
“You’re eloping with Sasha and you need a ring. Sorry, but I don’t really do jewelry.”
“Do you want to hear or not?”
“Not about your wedding night.”
“Gross.”
“You’re the one who has a crush on an old man.”
