She wishes now that she could grab them, get hold of both their arms above their elbows, make them stand up, take them outside. It’s cold out, but she doesn’t think it matters. There’s no way there’s not more weed somewhere in this house. They could replace the beers with Alice’s good bourbon. She’s not sure even she would want the house as badly if she knew that without it, both her brothers would still sit outside with her like that.

“Alexa!” Colin yells behind them. He’s standing up, his pizza half on the floor, and Kate reaches down to slide it back onto his plate. “Play ‘Crocodile Rock,’” he says.

“Who’s Alexa?” asks Henry.

“You don’t know Alexa?” Stella says.

“You know what a Luddite is, Stell?” Martin says.

Henry sidles up close to Stella with another piece of pizza. “Your dad ever talk to you about surveillance states?” he says.

“You’re like a parody of yourself,” Martin says.

“We don’t have an Alexa,” Alice says to Colin. “You want music?”

Colin nods, looking at each of the grown-ups. “You know ‘Crocodile Rock’?” he says.

“They did a thing with the song at school,” says Martin, to make clear he’s not the one who introduced his son to Elton John.

Alice types “Crocodile Rock” into her phone and attaches it to the speaker: fast piano, some sort of horn, that voice like no other. When Colin said the name she wasn’t sure she knew it, but then—I don’t think I’ve heard this song in twenty years, she says, as every word comes back.

All the kids stand and start jumping, whirling. Colin gets up on the couch and bounces up and down. Henry grabs Stella’s hands and they twist their bodies, elbows loose, elastic; Henry lifts and dips her, holds one arm as she twirls.

Even Tess gets up, and the twins jump and bob their heads around her. Josh grabs Kate, who runs in place in front of Bea, who laughs at her mother, jumps up next to Colin on the couch. Stella comes up next to Alice and grabs her hand and they start marching, knees up high then down. They’re sweating, reek of bodies. The fire burns and the heat’s on and the last remaining sweaters, hats, and pants are peeled off. They all fling their arms, go wild.