“That’s dish soap, Addie.Not for machines,” she groans.
“How do we make it stop?” I ask, my cheeks hot with embarrassment.
JJ glides over to the dishwasher with ease, like he’s skating on the ice, and presses a button on the front. The machine goes quiet.
“At least we don’t have to wash the floors,” I say meekly.
The way Winnie rolls her eyes makes her look so much like Mom.
“True.” JJ snags a towel from the counter near the sink and throws it at me.
“Rude.” Laughing, I catch it, then assess the soapy mess surrounding me. “How in god’s name are we going to get this all wiped up?”
He reaches into the drawer and produces a few more towels, throwing one at each of my siblings. “We’re going to have a dance party.”
“A what?” Winnie asks, eyes narrowed.
“Dance party!” he howls, throwing his head back like a lunatic.
Upstairs, Avery screams, “Did you say dance party?”
A thundering rush sounds above us, then two little girls come flying into the kitchen.
My siblings and I shout “Wait!” at the same time, but JJ is alreadysliding over to them and snagging them each around the waist. “You heard that right, Avey girl,” he says, hauling them up on either side of him. “What do you say? Should we show them how it’s done?”
“How what’s done, Uncky JJ?” Gracie asks with a giggle.
“Dad, get out the iPod,” Avery squeals, bouncing in his arm.
He sets her on the counter and pulls that damn iPod from all those years ago out of his pocket, then scoops her up again.
Seriously? Does he still keep that on him at all times?
Peering over Avery’s head, he presses a few buttons. A second later, music blasts through the speakers my dad had installed in the kitchen years ago.
Why am I not surprised that JJ is already hooked up to the system?
“What’s happening?” Winnie asks as Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off” starts playing.
The girls go wild in his arms, making it hard to hear even the music. The song may be decades old, but it’s still a hit.
JJ drops his towel to the ground, steps on it, and shimmies, cleaning up the mess while dancing.
Finn does the same, holding out a hand to Gracie, who jumps from JJ’s arm into his.
JJ spins toward me with Avery in his arms, the two of them wearing matching bright smiles. “You going to join us, Angles?”
“You’re ridiculous.” But I do. Winnie and the boys do too. Eventually Hope comes down with Mari in her arms—the baby presumably asleep—and dances too.
When the song switches to “Yellow,” my eyes dart to JJ without my permission and my heart jumps.
“This is my Mimi and Pops’s song,” Avery, who’s now dancing on her own towel, tells everyone. She grasps Gracie’s hand. “Come on. We dance like this to this song.” She wraps her arms around Gracie’s neck, and the two of them sway adorably.
After a few bars, she looks up at me. “Why aren’t you dancing?”
I cough out laugh. “I like watching you.”
“Daddy,” she says, using the tone that means she’s annoyed. Avery never hides her disappointment.
