‘Is that how you guys met?’ The next sister cut me off before I could speak.
‘That’s so cute!’ the next sister said.
‘And where do you live?’
‘Nor—’ I was cut off again.
‘How long have you known each other?’
‘How long have you worked at the airport?’
The questions shot at me from all sides, all at once. I tried to keep up but was soon lost in the rally of words.
‘Guys, give her a moment to breathe,’ Andrew scolded, with a smile on his face.
‘You can’t expect us to do that! You haven’t brought a girl home in years—’ I think it was Linda who said this.
‘Years!’ Someone else added emphasis to that.
‘It’s so exciting. We want to know everything.’
‘Everything,’ someone else echoed.
‘Okay, okay.’ Andrew walked over to me. ‘At least let her have a drink first.’ He pointed across at the barbecue. ‘If I know my brother-in-law James, there’re probably frozen Margaritas in a blender in the kitchen?’
The man named James shot Andrew a thumbs-up.
‘Do you want one?’ Andrew asked me.
‘I don’t know. I’ve never had a Margarita.’
There was silence again. I was sure, if a feather had dropped from the sky, we would hear it as it banged to the ground with a thunderous roar. And then a loud and very resounding group ‘What?’ rung out. In seconds, it seemed to have become everyone’s personal mission to make me drink a Margarita.
CHAPTER21
‘Mmmm, Margaritas are delicious!’ I exclaimed as I drank my second one and licked the salt off the rim.
‘I can’t believe you’ve never had one,’ James said, pouring seconds for everyone else.
‘Why not?’ Becca asked.
I put my drink down on the table and took a deep breath. ‘I don’t like cactuses.’
‘You don’t what?’ Becca exclaimed, and a few people laughed, including Andrew.
‘I had a bad encounter with one.’ I stuck my arm out and pointed to the small red scars.
‘What happened?’ Linda leaned towards my arm.
‘I fell on one. It took the doctor an hour to remove all the thorns.’ I pointed to my left leg, which was also covered in small red scars.
‘You’re kidding?’ Shaleen gasped.
‘And because you don’t like cactuses, you’ve never drunk tequila?’ Grace asked, barbecue tongs in the air.
‘Precisely!’ I was thrilled she’d gotten it right away and I hadn’t needed to explain that thinking about cactuses made my scars psychosomatically itch. Which made me recall how the nurse had had to hold me down as the doctor worked on me with tweezers while I screamed.
‘Well, thanks for drinking a tequila with us today,’ Andrew said, turning in his chair. He was sitting next to me, and his close proximity made me feel good.
