“I think we might have skipped a step…” Ben replies, flipping through the clue cards in his hands.
Elaine pops up off the ground, scaring the shit out of me—I had almost forgotten she was there. “Great job,mon chou! You did it! Now let’s eat! I’m starving.”
“Are you okay to stay for dinner?” Ben asks, tugging me close.
I look around the room, nervous energy buzzing through me at his very public display of affection. He loosens his grip and I instantly miss his firm touch. I lean into him, moving his arms back into place as I say, “Yeah, I’d love to. That was really fun, but maybe we should buy a kit next time instead ofletting Anders and Gabe come up with the clues. I’m ninety-nine percent sure it was not actually Curly who did it.”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “Next time?” He grins and I shove him off me.
“Wait!” Bex runs over. “Get back together, let me take another picture.”
Ben puts his face right next to mine with a huge grin, and I flick off the camera. Once it’s developed, Ben looks down at it like it’s the most precious treasure he’s ever come across. “It’s perfect,” he says, showing me.
I realize immediately that the star of the show is the giant engagement ring on my finger. It’s front and center, a beam of light making it sparkle even in the poor quality polaroid. Honestly, I’ve been wearing it so often I forgot it was there, but this is the first time I’m seeing it on my hand through someone else’s eyes.
“Can I keep it?” Ben asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I nod and he tucks it into his pocket.
We sit down at the dining table with the rest of the Bardot family. In keeping with the theme, tonight’s dinner is a variety of Italian dishes. I actively avoid the spaghetti and meatballs—I really hate long noodles—loading my plate with lasagna instead. I’m content to observe as the chaos of Bardot family dinner unfolds around me.
Everyone jokes, tells stories, asks thoughtful questions. They care about each other’s lives with no judgement. No expectations except that you show up.
I’m overwhelmed, so I’m quiet, but I reassure Ben that I do want to stay. I enjoy being around his family, and a sudden pang hits me when I think about what it would mean to say no to Ben and this stupid pact. It would mean not only losing out on him, but also on a family that I could one day, hopefully, call my own.
This is so much more than just Ben and me. So much more… “I need some air,” I whisper to Ben, urging him to stay seated when he gets up to join me.
I’m standing on the Bardot’s front porch, freezing my ass off and wishing I was a smoker, when the door creaks open. “I told you not to follow me,” I say, without even turning around.
“Apologies,” comes a much older voice. Deep in the same way Ben’s is, but… different. “I can go back inside if you’d like.”
I whirl around, instantly embarrassed. “Mr. Bardot, no it’s fine. Please stay out here, I can go in!”
He grins, looking so much like his sons in this moment. “I was hoping to talk to you, actually. Want to sit?” He gestures toward the porch swing, and that’s when I see a heavy coat draped across his arm.
“Only if that’s for me.” I nod toward the jacket, and he holds it up for me to slide my arms into.
We sit on the porch swing, rocking quietly for several minutes. It seems that Hugo Bardot doesn’t mind the silence, either. I inhale, looking up at the starry sky, debating whether or not I should be the one to start the conversation.
“We can be a lot,” Hugo says, right before I was about to excuse myself back inside.
“Hmm?”
“The Bardots. It can be a lot to try to… acclimate.”
“Oh, no. It’s fine, really.” I say it more as a comfort to him than anything else.
Hugo chuckles, obviously picking up on my discomfort. “It’s okay,” he says. “I am also an only child. All four of them came out so rambunctious. Well, not Jules. He’s always been stoic, an old man from birth. But the rest of them—absolutely nuts. It was a lot for me to get used to. Still is, sometimes,” he admits.
“How’d you handle it when the noise became too much?” I ask, curious about how the quieter Bardots fare amidst the chaos.
“Exactly like this,” he states, his arms spread wide to indicate the porch swing and the stars above us. “I’ve spent a lot of time in this exact spot. You can still hear their chatter inside but it’s not quite so jarring. It helps me feel connected while still taking a little time for myself.”
“I hope you don’t mind me joining you,” I reply.
He smiles warmly. “Of course not. Jules, and even Bex, will join me out here on occasion.”
We fall back into comfortable silence, the back and forth motion of the swing soothing my nerves. A few minutes later, Hugo speaks again. “This might sound odd, but I remember the day you moved to town.”
