"How's Joel?" Sarah appeared at my elbow, Thomas on her hip.
"He's good. Busy. Skate America's next week."
She bounced Thomas, who was chewing on his own fist, completely absorbed in the task. "Does he ever ask about us? Owen still talks about him. The guy who let him win at hockey."
"He remembers. He asks about the kids."
"That's sweet." She paused, her brow creasing slightly, a question she wasn't quite asking. "You should invite him sometime. When things are less busy. Owen would lose his mind."
"Yeah," I said. "Maybe."
She drifted back toward the kitchen before I could say anything else. My phone was heavy in my pocket. When no one was looking, I checked it again.
Joel: wish I was there
Four words. I read them three times.
Red: no you don't. owen would make you play hockey in the backyard
Joel: I like owen
The cursor blinked. I typed I miss you, stared at it, deleted it letter by letter.
Joel: have fun at your party
Joel: talk later?
Red: yeah. later.
I put the phone away and went to find my brother.
We had cake. Sarah made me blow out candles while Owen counted them loudly and Lily told him to stop because it was rude to announce someone's age. Thomas clapped along without understanding why. Ro sang happy birthday in Finnish, which Chase said was a threat, not a song.
Gifts came after, spread across the coffee table. Derek and Sarah gave me a new watch, silver with a leather band, the kind of thing Dad would have picked out. Ro handed me a bottle of Finnish vodka that he claimed was medicinal. Chase gave me a book about the history of hockey in the Southwest, thick with photographs of teams from the 1970s in mustaches and short shorts. Owen had made a card with a drawing of what he insisted was me scoring a goal, but looked more like a stick figure being attacked by a large orange triangle.
The party wound down in stages after that. Thomas fell asleep on Sarah's shoulder. Owen crashed from his sugar high and had to be carried upstairs, protesting weakly that he wasn't tired. Lily said goodnight with the careful formality of a thirteen-year-old who wanted to seem mature, then ruined it by hugging Ro so hard he staggered.
"You'll visit again?" she asked into his chest.
"Of course. Maybe summer."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
She went upstairs. The noise settled into something softer.
Derek walked Ro and Chase to their rental car while I helped Sarah clear plates. Through the kitchen window, three shapes stood in the porch light. Ro's arm was around Chase's waist, his hand resting on Chase's hip like it belonged there. Because it did.
"You okay?" Sarah asked. She was loading the dishwasher, her back to me.
"Yeah. Just tired."
She nodded and didn't push. That was one of the things I appreciated about Sarah. She knew when to leave things alone.
The front door opened and Derek came back in, bringing cold air with him. October in Albuquerque had teeth after dark, a reminder that summer was over even when the days still held heat.
"They heading out?" Sarah asked.