“Almost,” he winks.
“Why do I feel like you aren’t going to behave?”
“It’s almost like you know me, too.”
I chuckle at that. “How many bands have you already contacted?”
“None yet,” he says, taking a sip of wine before he goes on. “Obviously there was already some chatter about us having live music—I mean, that’s how it all started. I’ve just kept the conversation going here and there, and may have mentioned that we’ll be doing more after the holidays.”
I’m impressed by his restraint and say as much. Darren eyes me carefully. His bare foot makes contact with mine and neither of us pulls away from it. For the hundredth time, I wonder what he does with his other friends, because every blurred line remains unfamiliar to me. I like it though, and I won’t insult either of us by pretending otherwise.
We talk about my job briefly, and then about Lucy for a while, and we’re nearly ready for dessert when I run my finger along the stem of my glass. “So, would it be correct to assume you still haven’t heard from your father?”
Darren swirls his last sip and stares at it a beat too long. “Do you want more wine?”
“Yes.”
The bottle isn’t any closer to Darren than it is to me, but I let him have the moment he needs, and he pours for both of us while I enjoy the last of my curry and set my fork on my plate.
He takes a long drink and then shrugs. “It would be very correct, yeah. And this Riesling is really fucking good. You should tell Lucy.”
“Will do.”
Darren’s final bite goes uneaten, and he offers me an uncertain smile before he pushes away from the table with his wine in his hand. His frustration isn’t about me—other than whatever blame I’m due for mentioning his father—and I don’t take any offense when he walks away entirely. He steps into the backyard, and I rise to clear the table, the mess in my kitchen a reason to give him a few minutes alone in my space.
I get the dishwasher loaded, leave a few other things to soak in the sink, and wipe down the counters. Then I go to the refrigerator for the dessert Darren brought, a welcome complement to everything I'd made. This night has been strange, reminders of both Michelle and Darren's father causing us to stumble a bit, but even our roughest edges continue to fit together smoothly. It leaves me wanting him and needing him, and when I finally step into the backyard, the small box of cheesecake bites in my hand, his visible exhale makes me think he feels the same.
He lifts the glass to his mouth, and then his arm is pressed to mine and I lean into the touch. My string lights leave us with the predictable play of brightness and shadows, and the beginning of a breeze means the spa will be a welcome relief when we make it there. For now, Darren offers me his glass and steals dessert, feeding me a bite before he looks toward the pool.
“So, I asked you about skinny dipping, but what about parties out here? There’s no way you guys had a backyard like this and didn’t use it.”
“We had a lot of parties, yeah,” I confirm after chasing cheesecake with wine. “Friends, colleagues, neighbors. It was nice, it’s just—I haven’t bothered.”
“Not since Michelle died?”
“Technically, there was one.” I take another sip and feel it all the way down. “Lucy and I hosted a reception here after the funeral. Michelle planned most of it—the menu, the playlist. Everything. It was the wrong time of year for it, but a really gorgeous day, actually. Better than I could’ve imagined.”
Darren makes a small sound, like a beautifully broken hum. “I’m glad you had all that. All of it.”
It’s probably more sincere than what the average Trailhead drinker might expect, but I’ve known better for a while, and I only wait to see if he has other questions for me. He helps himself to cheesecake instead, and I set the wine glass down near the things I’d tucked away earlier. It’s too hard to keep track of time when I’m with Darren, but I know it’s getting later than I want it to be, and he knows it, too. I watch him pull his shirt over his head and toss it toward a lounge chair, his body one I’ve admired for years and can more openly appreciate now. For a moment, I think he might leave his swim trunks behind too, but then he takes a few steps toward the spa, and another few steps into it, lowering himself until he's only visible from the shoulders up.
His eyes fall closed and I stare for several more seconds before I speak. “The jets aren’t on yet. You’re missing half the experience.”
Darren cracks an eye open. “Pretty sure I’m missing more than that.”
I remove my hoodie and throw it on top of his shirt, and then I press the button for the jets and listen to them come to life. I’m pleasantly steady when I take the last few steps toward the spa, and then I’m sitting across from him. With wet hands, I comb my hair back from my head and feel more relaxed than I had just a minute ago.
“I love being in my backyard,” I tell him, stretching my legs across the spa until my feet rest next to his hip. “That’s alwaysbeen true, but tonight—this is really nice.”
Darren reaches for me beneath the water, a hand around one of my ankles like it’s nothing. “You know I’m not gonna take away your solitude. Just want to disrupt it now and then.”
“I know, and I’m glad.”
“For not taking it away, or for disrupting it?”
“Both.”
“Mmmm. So, what do I have to do to convince you it’s time to host another party?”