“I’m not family.”
My parents exchange a glance: one of those glances that only the two of them understand, one that says everything. They have that sense of understanding that only belongs to people who have been in love for thirty-five years, wonderful people who have raised a family with love, respect, and solidarity. Two people that are crazy about each other, who I’m certain not even death could part. But it’s also a glance that means they have a plan: an open fire that will turn one unsuspecting victim’s life upside-down. And this time, I’m their target.
I just hope they have good aim, so I can come out of this in one piece.
And I hope no one gets caught in the crossfire.
“Of course you are, dear. You’re part of this family,” Dad says, and I can’t do anything but try to swallow down my stupid heart, to try and stop it leaping out of my throat and onto the ground. At least it would prove to everyone that I really do have one.
* * *
The dinner tableis total chaos. There are too many of us; we’re loud, irritating, argumentative. But Casey doesn’t seem at all uncomfortable. She doesn’t even seem to want to escape as soon as possible.
I’m sitting next to my dad, who’s at the head of the table, with Riley on the other side – thank God, as she’s the only person I can stand in this family – and behind us, the love of my life is sitting there in her bouncer, alert, staring at the ceiling with her huge, curious eyes.
Every so often, I glance at her, to check if she’s okay, while Riley sits next to me, smiling sweetly every time she catches me looking.
“So, Casey. How’s everything at home?”
Mum is always the first to start a conversation which, more often than not, ends in a dark, dead-end alleyway with only a wall in front of you for you to slam your head against.
“Really good, thanks,” Casey says, filling her mouth with beef. “My dad’s out on a date tonight.”
“Seriously? Coach Madigan?” Ryan asks, shocked.
“Uh-huh,” Casey says, chewing, before taking a sip of wine then carrying on. “He’s seeing one of our neighbours.”
“That’s wonderful,” Mum says.
Why the hell would she care?
“It was about time,” Casey adds. “I’ve been trying to convince him to date for years, but he’s a tough nut to crack. I actually think it’s all thanks to Mrs Reynolds. She won’t stop bringing us biscuits, cakes, sometimes casseroles… She’s luring him in through his stomach, and it’s working.”
“Well, I’d say that you and your dad seem to have the same…nature,” Mum says, amused, watching Casey shovel her steak into her mouth as if she hasn’t eaten in weeks.
Casey laughs. “Sorry.”
“What for? Do you have any idea who else is sitting at this table?” Dad says.
“Well then, while I’m here,” Casey says, standing up to pierce the last slab of beef with her fork, “I’ll make the most of it.” She sits back, looking longingly at her steak, totally unaware that’s she’s risking her life. Ryan always takes the last piece of steak: as well as being the most annoying one, he’s the one who eats the most. And the one who’s less inclined to share his food.
“And how’s work going?” Mum continues.
Casey is Mum’s victim today. It should bother me, but it doesn’t. For starters, if she concentrates everyone’s attention on her, then my brothers may come out of this evening without a scrap. Secondly, I want to know everything about her. Luckily, Mum is so predictable that I knew she’d kick off the evening by diving straight into other people’s business. It’s a problem that everyone shares in this family, and I’m certain that we get it from her.
“It’s alright,” Casey says vaguely.
“Do you like what you do?”
“Sure.” Another vague response.
“Didn’t you want to be a doctor, once?”
Fuck, Ryan.Hallelujah! Finally, he’s useful for something. Maybe – just maybe – I’ll give you half my steak.
Casey stops for a moment, her fork suspended in mid-air. I see her waver a little, as if she doesn’t know whether or not to respond. Then she composes herself and says: “I used to. But things change.”
A dry, evasive response. She doesn’t want to say it, and that’s not like her.
