“Brave man.” Viv raises her eyebrows and does a little sashay in Jalen’s direction. He looks at me, wild-eyed, and I step in to rescue him.
“Come on. You guys hungry? We’ve got Thai food and more vegan cookies than anyone needs.”
As the boys trail into the kitchen, Viv leans toward Marin and whispers, “I call dibs on Jalen’s therapist in ten years.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not how that works,” Marin mutters.
“So, Mom, is your date going to be here tomorrow?” Harper wiggles her eyebrows before stuffing a large bite of Pad Thai into her mouth.
“Yeah, Mom. Will I finally get to meet this mystery man? Between practices and classes and gym sessions, I’ve only gotten a few cryptic texts from Harper about him. Need to make sure he treats you well.”
“Are you two really okay with this?” My fingers twist into each other, my right hand moving to work the wedding band on my left finger out of habit. Except it’s not there anymore. Matt’s eyes flicker down to catch the movement.
“We want you to be happy. No one’s ever going to replace Dad, but that doesn’t mean you need to be alone forever. I mean, you’re notthatold.”
“Thank you?” It comes out as a question, as I have no idea if I’ve been complimented or insulted.
Matt takes another big bite of curry. “So, like I said, I’m lacking details. Who’s the lucky guy?”
I don’t have a chance to answer before Harper’s blurting out, “Bro! You’re never going to believe it. I’ll give you three hints.”
Matt leans forward like he’s about to get the best secret he’s heard all year.
“One: tall, dark, and handsome.”
“Well, that doesn’t really help me out. You could be describing twenty percent of the Seattle area.”
“Two: someone we’ve known for a long time.”
Matt shifts back, his eyebrows knitting together.
“Three: he delivers our mail.”
Now Matt’s fully back in his chair, mouth set in afirm line. “Oh.”
“Oh? That’s all I get? It’s romantic! I don’t expect you to swoon, but a little ‘awe’ wouldn’t kill you,” Harper continues, but I can’t take my eyes off Matt and how suddenly his reaction has changed.
“Yeah. Romantic.” He takes a long swig of the kombucha Viv’s placed in front of him. “So, need any help with party details?”
The obvious change in subject doesn’t go unnoticed.
Later, as the house winds down and I’m rinsing wine glasses in the kitchen, I catch a glimpse of Owen’s old watch on the counter; I’d found it when I was rummaging through the drawer for an extra roll of tape.
My heart tugs, confused and aching.
Tomorrow, I’ll stand in front of everyone and try to celebrate a man who’s gone, while trying not to fall apart in front of the one who’s somehow still here.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The backyard smells like fresh-cut grass and citrus candles. Tacky plastic tablecloths—Viv’s idea—flutter over the tables, printed with tiny piña coladas that feel more party store than paradise. Somewhere behind me, the grill sizzles, filling the air with barbecue smoke. I couldn’t decide between tropical beach vibes that reminded me of our honeymoon in Hawaii, or the smoky comfort of a Texas steakhouse—like that roadside diner we stumbled into on our road trip, the one with the pulled pork sandwiches we talked about for years. Two of Owen’s favorite memories. Two of mine.
I hover by the drinks table, trying to remember how to breathe without hiccupping on my own nostalgia.
I raise my glass after most of our guests have poured into our backyard. Harper pauses the music, and I clear my throat loudly a few times, trying to get everyone’s attention. Their murmurs quiet as they turn to face me.
“Thank you all for being here tonight. I know it’s a little unconventional, throwing a party for someone who isn’t here to enjoy it.” A soft laugh rises from the group, and I press on, voice steady despite the lump in my throat. “But Owen and I made apromise. Every decade, we’d celebrate big. We haven’t missed one yet, and I wasn’t about to start now.”
I pause, swallow, and smile through the tears building behind my eyes.
