Handsome boy/Nervous girl

At the pub, moderate noise of happy drunk people, his sister and cousins are coming soon.

Handsome Boy: "So, how many siblings do you have, again? You never really tell me anything about your family."

Nervous Girl: "Oh, really? Well, gosh, I guess it's just a long story, that's all. But, the short version is that I have a lot of brother's a sisters and I'm the youngest."

HB:"How many?"

NG:"Seven in total if you include my step-siblings."

HB:"Are your real siblings all tall with red hair like you?"

NG:"Uh, no, actually. They are all adopted. Uh, long, you know, story."

HB:"Wow! Your parents adopted four children?"

NG:"No-- I'm not adopted, the other three are, my parents weren't supposed to be able to get pregnant, but when my mom was forty she got pregnant. So, it's just kind of a long story."

HB:"That's pretty incredible, she must miss you with you all the way over here in New York."

NG: "Yeah, I'm sure she does. Well, actually, I guess it's me that's missing her. See, she's dead. ...And I try to tell myself that if someone is dead then you never have to miss them because then they are with you all the time no matter where you are and all that, but mostly I think that's all bull shit. I just really fucking miss her all the damn time and it's nearly impossible for me to convince myself I'll see her again in some magical land filled with ferries and possibility and joy and all that. So, that's pretty much it, um, I am the youngest of my siblings and... Yeah. It's a long story.