“Deal,” says Ali, putting her hand out for Will to shake.
“I can’t wait to be a dad,” says Will. “I’ve never been jealous of Jack for anything, apart from when he became a father. That’s the only part of my life that I regret; that I didn’t have children earlier.”
“Oh, babe,” says Ali, leaning into him. “There’s still time.”
“What if I’ve left it too late? No one knows how easy or difficult it’s going to be until they start trying. What if it takes years?”
“Well, good thing we’ve got years on our side,” says Ali.
He looks at her, panicked. “But we are going to start trying straight away, aren’t we?”
“Yes, of course, honey,” says Ali, as if he were a small child.
Will pulls himself up and takes a deep breath. “Honestly, if I was never able to experience what you guys have with Josh and Chloe, I don’t know what I’d do.”
“Do they get along?” asks Ali, seemingly wanting to change the subject. “Your two, I mean. There can’t be that big a gap between them.”
Noah nods. “It’s just under two years,” he says, looking to Rachel for confirmation. “They used to be really tight, but have gradually grown apart as the teenage years wreaked havoc on them.”
“They used to be like brother and sister,” remembers Paige.
Rachel coughs, as her wine goes down the wrong way. “They still get along, but there’s just a bit of awkwardness there now.”
“That’ll change again, no doubt,” says Will. “In the next few years, once they come out the other side of university.”
Ali’s eyes widen. “Oh my God!” she squeals excitedly. “What if they end up together?”
“Er, I don’t think so,” muses Rachel, almost to herself.
“Excuse me,” says Paige. “Are you saying my daughter’s not good enough for your son?”
“No,” says Rachel, forcing a laugh. “I’m just saying that I don’t think that will happen.”
“Why would it be such a bad idea?” asks Paige.
“It would just be weird. They’ve grown up with one another. It’d be like getting together with your best friend.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” says Paige, thoughtfully. “It’d be the modern-day equivalent of you and Noah getting together.”
“Exactly,” says Rachel, throwing her hands up in the air and shuddering for effect.
She’s grateful when the Dirty Dancing theme song starts playing through the patio speakers, and takes the opportunity to divert the increasingly uncomfortable conversation.
“Ah, this is our song,” she squeals, standing up and beckoning Jack, just like she did the first time they met on a crowded dance floor at an eighties night twenty years ago.
“I’m going to marry that man,” she’d said to her friend Cass, as she watched him dance the “Love Man” as well as she’d ever seen anyone do. With the exception of Patrick Swayze, of course.
“Yeah, you and every other girl in this place,” Cass had replied, laughing.
He’d made his way across the floor toward her as soon as she’d gestured to him. Incredibly, it never occurred to her at the time that he wouldn’t; such is the confidence of youth.
“You seem to know what you’re doing,” she’d said as he’d pulled her in close and they’d gyrated against each other.
He’d smiled, revealing two dimples. “What can I say? I know every song and every dance move.”
Rachel had had to restrain herself from taking him by the hand and dragging him to the DJ booth to request “（I’ve Had） The Time of My Life.”
“My husband and I are going to perform the finale as the first dance at our wedding,” she’d said.
Jack had looked at her, clearly bemused. “Does he know?”
“No,” she’d said. “Because I haven’t met him yet.”
A year and a baby later, she’d run to him at their wedding reception and he’d lifted her up to the strains of Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes.
Rachel smiles at the memory now. “Come on, Johnny,” she says in an American accent.
Jack laughs as he gets up. “Whatever you want, Baby,” he says, taking her in his arms and whisking her around the terrace.
She doesn’t want to spoil the moment, but they’ve never been ones to keep secrets from each other—at least she didn’t think they were—and she doesn’t want to start now.