Page 1 of Every Time We Touch

Chapter 1

Jen

Sunday brunch at my mother’s house is usually a lively affair, but today there’s an undercurrent of tension running through us all. No wonder. My father is bringing his new girlfriend over for the first time.

The only person who’s relaxed is my mother. She introduced her own new partner a few years ago and the world didn’t end. That her partner is Nora Levine, arguably the biggest sitcom star of the last twenty years, didn’t hurt either. That sort of thing tends to go down better with the offspring than waltzing in with a woman almost thirty years your junior.

Dad’s new girlfriend was born the same year as me. How cliché can you get?

“Dad’s been a mess since Abby left him,” Austin, my younger brother, says. “He’s not been himself.”

“It’s been tough,” Heather, my twin, confirms. “We should give him some credit.”

“He can have all the credit he wants, but must he also have such a young girlfriend?” I chime in.

“You’re just annoyed, Jen,” Lauren, my other sister, says. “Because Dad found himself a new girlfriend in no time and you’re still single at forty-two.”

“Oh, sure. That must be it.” I used to call myself self-partnered, but after my last relationship ended, I can’t quite call myself that anymore. “I’m the bitter single sister and the only person in the family who can see this younger woman for who she really is. Probably some gold digger or something.”

“Dad’s not that rich,” Austin says matter-of-factly. “Mom’s the one with all the money.”

“Rich enough for some opportunistic dancer to get her claws into him.” Damn. I do sound rather harsh. “Why else would she go out with Dad?”

“You haven’t even met her yet,” Mom says. “Give her a chance before you judge her. Or at least before calling her a gold digger.”

“I googled her,” I say. “Did you know she did one season of Dancing with the Stars?”

“Ooh.” My brother’s boyfriend Juan’s eyes grow wide. “I adore that show.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “What’s her name?”

“Clancy Estevez,” I say on a sigh that could also be construed as bitter.

“Really?” Nora asks. “Clancy Estevez?”

“Here she is.” Juan shows Nora his phone. I catch a glimpse of the photo. I’ve already seen it and so already know that Clancy Estevez is a hot forty-two-year-old woman with a dancer’s body. The thought of her being with my father simply doesn’t compute in my head.

“Oh, yeah,” Nora says. “I met her once at Stella’s.”

“And?” Heather asks, while all of us fix our gaze on Nora.

“She was lovely, as far as I can remember,” Nora says.

“Lovely,” Juan repeats. “That’s high praise coming from Nora.”

“How the hell does someone like that end up with Dad?” Heather asks. At last, another sibling expressing some doubt about this relationship.

“It was an app, wasn’t it?” Lauren says.

I can’t help but roll my eyes. The mere notion of my seventy-year-old father on a dating app is, somehow, excruciating.

“Your father’s a handsome man,” Mom says. “He’s never been short of female attention.”

“Way of the world.” Juan leans back in his chair. “An older man with a much younger woman. They’re by no means the first couple like that and they will most certainly not be the last.” Juan is eighteen years older than my brother, so of course he would say that—and they’re two men. But eighteen years is not twenty-eight. Still, I also know he’s right. It’s a tale as old as time.

“Amen to that,” Nora says.

“I understand it’s an adjustment,” Mom, always the peacekeeper, says. “Abby was much more age-appropriate, but in the end, don’t we all just want your father to be happy?”

“How happy can a woman the same age as his oldest daughters make him?” I ask.