“You get a lot of mail? I don’t get any mail.”
“I’m a homeowner with a retirement plan,” she said.
“Now you’re just bragging.”
Reagan laughed. She leaned on the railing of the deck. She was tired of standing.
“They’re in there eating pie,” Mason said.
“How long has it been since you’ve all gotten together?”
“Indoors? Months. Probably June or July.”
She nodded.
“Isyourfamily all being careful?” he asked.
“God no, they’re all at my mom’s house. They’ve been acting normal this whole time. I haven’t seen my mom since March.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. She still calls me every other day. And texts me weird YouTube videos.”
Mason laughed. “I don’t think my mom knows how to get on YouTube.”
“Count your fucking blessings.”
“I do.” He looked down again, still kind of chuckling. “It’s not fair,” he said, more seriously. “I made that pie.”
“I’m impressed,” Reagan said. “I struggled with the Jell-O salad.”
He looked up. “I thought that might be Jell-O salad ... What kind did you make?”
“Green.”
“Green is thebest,” he said.
“Greenisthe best,” she agreed.
“I’mimpressed.”
Reagan smiled at him. Only because he couldn’t see it. “Wait right there.”
She turned around and walked into the house. Into the kitchen. The Jell-O was in the fridge.
“You talking to somebody?” her grandpa called from the living room.
“Just Mason,” she said.
“I like that Mason. He’s got a job in Washington.”
“Mm-hmm.” Reagan got two everyday bowls out of the cupboard. Blue-and-white Pfaltzgraff. “Do you want anything while I’m in here?”
“No, thanks. I’m still stuffed.”
“All right.” Reagan took the bowls out onto the deck. Mason was still standing there, with his hands in his pockets. He laughed when he saw her.
“I’m not sure how to do this,” she said.
