"Oh, don't let him fool you, Evan. Damien wanted his own IT team," Adam said, patting Damien on the back. "I'm Adam, Billie's brother-in-law."
"You know Dillon," I said.
"How goes it?" Dillon said, shaking Evan's hand.
"It goes. The bar's more efficient, thanks to you."
"I'll have to come by and check it out," Dillon said.
All the other introductions followed. I had a big family, but it was easy to forget that sometimes because we were all close.
"Paul is really chatting it up," I said. "When did he become such a talker?" Of course, Bobby and John gave him a run for his money.
"It happened almost overnight," Damien said.
"Want to pick out the music?" Mom asked Evan.
"Music? Sure?"
I took his hand and led him over to the bookshelf. The records and CDs were kept behind a high cabinet now, as part of the necessary childproofing.
We all laughed when he picked New Kid in Town by The Eagles.
I picked up George and danced with him.
Stevie had brought her cat, Van Morrison. He and my mom's cat, Prince, had some type of relationship. Evan's mouth gaped when Van Morrison's friendly nips turned more aggressive. Soon they were both licking each other's balls.
"You don't see that every day," Evan said.
In this house you did.
"Stop!" Damien said, separating them. "There are kids here, for God's sake."
Van Morrison leaped away immediately, but Prince hissed at Damien before slowly sauntering off, his tail moving in a mocking pattern.
"Still not getting along?" I asked.
Damien shook his head, but before he could respond, Marley and Rick walked in. I ran toward her with George in my arms. "You look so … "
"Big," she said.
"Beautiful," Rick offered, kissing her head.
"I agree with Rick."
"She's a feisty one," Marley said, rubbing her belly.
"She?"
"I think it's a she but Rick thinks we're having a boy. We decided to let it be a surprise."
"I think that's wise," Mom said.
Stevie and Mom joined us. We all looked at Marley, one question in our eyes.
"I'm sleeping really well. We keep odd hours these days, but it's working out."
"Is she kicking a lot?"
"I think she's training to be a kick-boxer, actually."
My mom and sisters and I got caught up in it. I forgot to be a good hostess, but thankfully, the boys picked up on our slack, entertaining Evan.
The conversation went smoothly because we all loved music and it was easy for Evan to talk about. His knowledge rivaled Mom's and I could tell both were equally impressed with each other. He even complimented Mom's vegan meatballs.
"He loves Mom's balls," Stevie said, causing me to choke on my iced green tea. "He's very … strapping," Stevie continued to whisper. "I get why you changed your online name, Mrs. Charlie Hunnam."
I kicked her to shut her up.
"You've been holding out, Little Bird," Marley said, not offering me any help. I would have kicked her too, but she was pregnant so I refrained.
Neither of them looked satisfied, so I threw them something. "Let me know if you guys need to borrow any batteries. I have an oversupply," I said quietly enough for them to hear.
Unfortunately, they weren't as stealthy in their giggling responses.
Thankfully, Mom announced that it was time for dish and dish. I'd never been so happy for dessert. I volunteered to help her get it ready.
"I like him," Mom said, as she took the cake out the fridge.
I started slicing it. "Really?"
"You seem surprised."
"I just thought after Preston … I know you didn't like him much."
"Sweetheart, I had no issues with Preston."
"You didn't?"
"Well, now I hate him, but back then, my main concern was that he wasn't right for you."
"Why do you say that?"
"It wasn't anything about him, baby. It was you. It's not what the man does for you, but rather how he makes you feel. How's that chocolate craving?"
"Diminishing daily."
"I thought so. Safe sex?"
"Mom!"
"Just answer so I can sleep at night."
"Yes."
"Thank you."
"I figured you might have an issue with him. I mean, I'm kind of vanilla and he's all rocky road."
"You say that like vanilla's a bad thing." She put her arm around me. "I may be a vegan, but even I know that vanilla is the basis of every flavor. Rocky road needs vanilla to stabilize it."
"He's leaving in the fall. He doesn't stay in one place for long."
"Maybe he's found the one thing that can detour him."
I opened my mouth, but the boys-the big and small ones-all started chanting "Cake."
"Dish … Have you thought of names?" Stevie asked Marley, before even taking a bit of the dairy free, eggless, sugarless cake.
"I was thinking if it was a boy, we'd keep up the Beatles theme and go for Ringo."
Rick choked. "I thought I vetoed that one."
"If you didn't, I do," Mom said.
"Why?"
Rick shook his head. "Ringo Randy? Do you even want this kid to survive the first grade?"
Marley laughed. "Of course we can't name him that. I'm just brainstorming here." She rested her head on Rick's shoulder. "You always say there are no bad ideas when brainstorming."
"I changed my mind," he grumbled.
"Marley, there are no rules in naming your child. You don't have to follow my pattern," Mom said. "Pick out a name that feels right."
"Why did you do that, Mom?" I asked. "I get that we're named for the musicians that most spoke to you when you were pregnant with each of us, but why singer names?"
Mom shrugged. "I guess I wanted all my kids to feel like rock stars … figuratively, of course."
Stevie chuckled. "Literally too. You wanted us to all go on the road and be an all-girl band."
"Maybe a little," Mom said, pinching her thumb and index finger together.
"I could see that," Evan said. I was glad he joined in the conversation.
"But alas, that's the irony of it, Evan. We can appreciate harmony, even though we have none."
"We're all musically challenged," Marley added.
"Well, speak for yourself. I can play a mean tambourine," I said, mimicking the movement.
Marley grabbed my wrist and turned it over. "What happened here?" she asked.
My mouth gaped as I stared at the imprint. "Must be from the shirt I wore earlier."
Dillon took my other wrist. "That's funny, it looks like the same pattern as the curtains I bought you. Damask. That's kind of a weird pattern for a shirt, and the cuffs would have to be awfully tight to cause an indentation."
"What are you? CSI?" I asked, pulling my wrist away.
I allowed myself a second to gaze at Evan, whose expression hovered between amused and horrified.
"Jeez, you don't have to go all crazy-girl. I was just asking a question."
"Can I dish?" Bobby asked.
"Please," I almost screamed. Everyone stared at me. "I mean, I want to hear what Bobby has to say."
"Of course," Adam said. "Go ahead, son."
He turned to Evan. "Do you do it with my Aunt Billie?"
Kill me. Kill me now please.
But my dear sweet nephew wasn't done with his line of questioning. Instead, he propped his elbows on the table and leaned forward, waiting for an answer. Evan's jaw moved but no words came out, although he swallowed hard, swelling his Adam's apple. "My mom said she's really bad at it. But Aunt Marley said she just needs to find her rhy-rhythm. Grandma says everyone should do it even if they are bad, because it makes people happy."
"Bobby!" Stevie chided. The child looked at her innocently.
Adam held his hand up. "Bobby, son, for God's sake, please clarify what you are asking."
He looked at his dad like he was the child, not the adult. "Singing."
Oh thank God.
Stevie put her hand over her neck, covering the crimson blush. "Of course, he was talking about singing," Stevie said, a few octaves louder than necessary.
"We've never sang together. You interested, Billie Marie?"
Mom, Dillon, Marley and Stevie all shot me simultaneous looks of interest.
"I'd rather just appreciate what you can do."
"Speaking of what you can do, would you consider playing for us?" Stevie asked.
Way to put him on the spot, Stevie, but Evan didn't seem fazed by it. "I would, but I don't have my guitar."
Adam stood. "That's a problem I can solve. I have a spare at my parents' house next door. I'll be back."