with pride. “Well, I’ve been meaning to come by, anyway. I want some time with the twins.”
“Anytime, Rosebud,” he said, taking a large sip of my margarita before handing it back to me.
“Where is everybody?”
“In the living room,” he said, walking past me with an empty glass, holding it out toward my mother.
She smiled at him with the same tenderness she would with Dallas or me. Though Paul had been a result of my father’s first marriage, words like half-brother or step-mom never crossed either of their lips. We were family, and there was no half to it as far as my mother was concerned. She’d accepted Paul as her own and never looked back.
Al Green grew louder as I entered the living room and took note of the full-fledged party before me. I saw my nephew first, getting down as he bounced his diaper-clad butt around the room. His chubby hands were at his sides and he was doing the dancing type squat thing that babies often do. I was completely enamored as I looked up to Dallas, who was recording him with her cell phone, a doting smile on her face. I loved that look on her. Dallas had been such a hard-ass her whole life, and though we all loved her regardless, it was disarming to see her so in love with her family. She was a glowing mother, one that took pride in her children and adored them, though she often voiced otherwise. Admittedly, her babies were hard to handle, both bursting with personality and quite demanding. It would definitely take a village to raise them, and thankfully, that’s what we were. I loved being a part of it all. It was without a doubt one of the best parts of my life.
I was more than entertained watching Grant until I saw who he was mimicking. Jack had Annabelle in his arms and was swinging his hips to the music in perfect time. My mouth dropped as I watched him move around the living room like a trained lady-killer while he entertained the little girl in his arms. Dallas was too busy watching her son give it all he had to notice Jack. I quickly scanned the room to find Dean digging through my parents’ old records. My father had kept a good amount of them from my parents ‘rave’ days, and every once in a while they would break them out. Apparently, tonight seemed like a good time, but it was the second generation hosting this party. Annabelle laughed and cooed at Jack as the wind from his movement ran through her raven hair. With each dip Jack made with his hips, she screamed out with a giggle. Dallas egged Grant on with a “Go, baby, go,” laughing to herself as Grant really got into it, shaking everything he had. I laughed along with her, still a bit dazzled at Jack’s ability to move the way he did. I found it sexy as hell.
A feeling of fullness I hadn’t experienced in some time surfaced as a memory of the time my parents had attempted to teach us to dance flittered across my mind. I looked to Dallas with sentimental eyes.
She would do the same for her kids, and I would be right there to help her.
Dallas had no rhythm at all, and I was full of it. Not wanting to interrupt the scene unfolding in front of me, I danced along with them at the living room entrance. Minutes later, I found Jack looking over at me in greeting with a warm smile and the lift of his chin. He wasn’t shy at all about the fact that he was dancing in my parents’ living room.
“Rose, are you seeing this?!” Dallas howled as her son roared and pulled out his best dance moves. I watched him with pride as the song finally ended, or rather, Dean scratched the record to put on some old school Michael Jackson.
No one seemed to tire as they danced through song after song. My sister and I shared a margarita on the couch while my parents howled in the kitchen with Paul. It seemed the party was in full swing at the Whittaker house. I sent up a prayer in thanks that I hadn’t missed it.
“I’ve got two bottles ready,” Dallas said in an attempt to justify her large sip of my alcohol.
“No judging,” I said, cradling the bottom of the mug and lifting it to encourage her to take