Kane frowned. “I don’t think—”
Peals of laughter interrupted the rest of his sentence.
“The prodigal daughters have returned,” he said, turning toward two women traipsing into the lobby, arms entwined and looking as thick as thieves.
“Returned drunk,” Alec said, crossing his arms over his chest and giving the pair a critical eye.
“We are not drunk,” Jojo claimed as she approached, shaking a naughty finger at him. “We are giddy with…with new friendship.”
“How many toasts did the new friends make?”
They glanced at each other, shrugged. Lilly’s inky-blue gaze came back to his, her face betraying a becoming, though guilty, flush. “Um, we didn’t count.”
“And we didn’t drive either,” Jojo crowed. “We hired our own driver for the afternoon. Redondo.”
“Reynaldo,” Lilly corrected.
Wide-eyed, Jojo stared at her new buddy. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m good with names.”
Jojo’s mouth stretched into a goofy smile. “You are such a Becky,” she said, then directed her attention to Alec. “The girl’s a Becky! You should jump on it! Beckys are special!”
He winced at the volume of her voice. “Do I want to know what she’s talking about?” he said to Kane under his breath.
“I think I can translate,” the other man offered. “She fills up our text string with her collection of odd slang. A ‘Becky’ is the best kind of girlfriend a man could imagine. We’re all supposed to be on the lookout for a Becky.”
“Alec doesn’t want a girlfriend,” Lilly said to his sister. “Remember?”
“Oh, yeah. But men say shit like that all the time. My ex said he didn’t want a girlfriend because he already had a wife, but he had one on the side anyway.” She started laughing. “I called her Side Dish.”
“How original.” Alec grabbed his sister by the arm and pulled her closer. “Do I need to administer a field sobriety test before you go into the theater for Mom and Dad’s little lovefest on film?”
Jojo stilled. “Oh. Yeah.” She drew up her hand and breathed against her palm, then blinked, likely due to the heavy alcohol fumes bouncing back at her. “Uh-oh.”
Lilly sidled close to Alec and spoke just for his ears. “I think she’s a little on edge to be around so much happy family on the heels of her divorce.”
He grimaced. “I don’t think I can give her a pass on skipping it. Mom and Dad want us both to be there. Kane too.”
“I’ll get coffees from the cart in the lobby and bring them back.” Lilly’s “giddiness” seemed to be quickly evaporating. “Jojo will be sobering up in no time.”
“Would you do that?” Glancing at his wrist, his watch told him they should be hustling into the theater.
“Of course.”
“We’ll be up front. I’ll save you the seat next to mine.”
“Oh. It’s family time. A family thing. I don’t belong—”
“You belong next to me,” Alec said firmly, ignoring Kane’s speculative glance and Lilly’s wary gaze. “Tonight, you belong next to me.”
“Great way to work her out of your system,” his second cousin said, with a hearty slap on Alec’s back as they made their way to the front of the theater. “Get her right there close and personal.”
“Fuck you,” Alec muttered, then busied himself pouring his sister into one of the plush chairs just as the lights in the room dimmed.
Lilly arrived as the opening credits rolled. He drew her down beside him as the song “Total Eclipse of the Heart” swelled from the speakers and passed off one of the coffees she carried to Jojo. Then the audience burst into mingled laughter, hoots, and applause, as a much younger Miranda and Vic appeared center screen. During college, Alec guessed, with his dad needing a haircut and his mom wearing an embroidered shirt that looked like something suited for a character in Heidi, one of the books he’d been forced to read as a kid.
The image dissolved into a bit of old video, slightly grainy, but recognizable as his mom and dad during their wedding rehearsal. He looked completely pleased with himself. She, carrying a “bouquet” of what had to be a mish-mash of ribbons from gift boxes, ran down the aisle and into her gonna-be groom’s arms.
Another round of applause from the attendees in the theater.
The film chronicled Vic and Miranda’s early lives—from driving up in a ratty truck to their first apartment, to random shots from a variety of get-togethers they’d hosted pre-kids. His parents had always loved to entertain. Photos of poker parties, Halloween parties, and one strange event where his dad was wearing a huge sombrero appeared on the screen.
“Cinco de Mayo, 1984,” someone in the audience yelled. “We made margaritas with that really cheap tequila.”
A collective groan sounded from the older generation in the room. “Sexto de Mayo, 1984,” a man two rows back commented. “Worst hangover I ever had.”
Grinning, Alec glanced over at Lilly. She was smiling too, and when she looked his way, he didn’t think twice about taking her hand.
It felt good, her small fingers in his, and even better when the Thatcher kids began appearing in the movie of his parents’ marriage.
On his other side, Jojo sucked in a quick breath at the first appearance of baby Simon. But God, then they were all laughing because their brother had the most uncooperative hair on any infant of all time. It stood straight up at the crown, and the filmmaker had chosen to display the many times and many ways in which his parents attempted to tame it for the camera.
“Mom,” Jojo remonstrated with a giggle in her voice. “Are you actually licking it there?”
Miranda groused that she should have pre-screened the film, but then more Thatcher siblings marched onto the screen. First Alec, then Jojo. They were all there, growing older, opening gifts, on family ski vacations, in Hawaii, that time their mother attempted to exhibit her famous swan dive and made a spectacular belly flop instead.
Alec’s eye kept being drawn to his big brother. He hadn’t seen him in five years, he realized. Not
