“Mountain air and sunshine, who knew?” said Merritt with a laugh. She looked over Nora’s shoulder, taking in the group clustered around her. She immediately recognized Nora’s husband, Jeff, whom she’d met a few times and who was hard to miss even if she hadn’t—he was six-five, covered in tattoos, and currently holding the hand of Nora’s younger daughter, Elle. Merritt greeted him with a smile and a wave before he pulled her in for a gruff half hug, too.
Nora directed her next words to her daughters. “Elle, Sydney—do you remember Merritt? She’s one of my oldest friends.”
“How old is she? A hundred?” asked Elle, then cackled at her own joke.
“Almost.” Merritt grinned, then looked back at Nora. “It’s been a while, it’s okay if they don’t remember. Last time I saw all of you, I don’t think Elle could talk.”
“You were in a music video together,” said Sydney, the older one, who looked about twelve, with a sassy matter-of-factness. “You were kissing.”
Merritt stifled a laugh, glancing at Nora, who had a world-weary parent-of-a-tween expression. “Where did you see that?” asked Nora, trying and failing to sound stern.
“YouTube,” said Sydney smugly, like she knew she’d caught them doing something they shouldn’t. “I looked her up when you said we were seeing her.” She directed her next question at Ethan, Nora’s ex-husband, who was standing on her other side. “Didyouknow about this?”
“I did,” said Ethan, who also seemed like he was trying not to laugh. “Your mom was just doing her job.”
Sydney crinkled her nose but didn’t say anything, still studying Merritt with apprehension.
Nora turned back to Merritt, lowering her voice. “She’s at the stage where she wishes we were both accountants or something. Everything we’ve ever done embarrasses her. Especially now that it’s all so easy to find.”
“Can’t say I blame her,” Merritt replied with a grin.
Her attention shifted to Ethan next. Nora was right: he did look better than she’d seen him in a long, long time. He’d always been freakishly handsome, even greasy and waxen the morning after a bender, but now, practically glowing with health and contentment, he was almost unrecognizable from the sullen, brooding man she’d last known.
Well, he was still alittlebrooding.
A long-suppressed memory bubbled up as if through shifting tectonic plates: the three of them in the back seat after a night out, Merritt and Ethan screaming at each other across Nora, the kind of slurred, incoherent fight that only happened when the evening had worn out its welcome and they were too many drinks (and bumps) deep to even know what they were upset about, like babies squalling because they’d been awake too long. Nora, stuck in the middle seat, had been silent, head leaned back, eyes shut tight. That was the last time they’d all gone out together.
Merritt’s cheeks burned with shame. She was really, really fucking lucky that Nora still wanted her in her life. They both were.
She raised her tiny compostable cup of sparkling water at Ethan, and he did the same with his, a sardonic—but not unkind—smile of recognition curving his lips. He turned to loop an easy arm around the shoulder of the younger woman next to him.
“This is my wife, Grey,” he said. “Grey, this is Merritt.”
Just letting you know that I’m prepared to hate her, Merritt had texted when Nora had told her they’d all be coming.
Haha. not necessary, but I appreciate it, Nora had responded.
Merritt reminded herself of that as she shook the woman’s hand. She was blond and beautiful, as Merritt could have predicted, but in a slightly offbeat way, radiating an aura of calm, reserved intelligence, not unlike Nora’s. Maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched that the two of them would get along, after all.
“Nice to meet you,” Merritt said.
“You, too,” said Grey, her voice deeper and sultrier than Merritt had expected. “I’m trying to play it very cool right now, is it working?”
Merritt laughed, already more disarmed than she wanted to be by her deadpan delivery.
“I did her braid,” Elle said proudly, and Grey turned her head to show off Elle’s handiwork in her curls as Merritt dutifully cooed over it.
She turned and introduced Dev and Olivia to everyone, exchanging an amused glance with Olivia behind Dev’s back as he shook Nora’s hand; it was obvious only to the two of them how much he was internally freaking out.
Nora quickly fell into a side conversation with Olivia, which, even though Merritt couldn’t hear, involved all four of their hands resting on Olivia’s stomach, trading earnest nods while the other one spoke. She turned back to Dev, who was telling the others, with some reluctance, about his ghostwriting career.
Ethan’s face lit up. “You know, I’m normally not into spy thrillers, but I’ve probably read a dozen of those Jack Cobalt books. When did you start? I was just saying to Grey that I thought the last few were some of the best in the series.”
“Oh, uh, thank you,” said Dev, clearly unsure what to do with the compliment. “Yeah, I’m in copyedits for my fourth one. They’re a lot of fun, if you want to turn your brain off for a while.”
“I’m always looking for any opportunity to do that,” Ethan said, with a wry chuckle.
“He also writes under his own name,” Merritt added. “Have you readThis Furious Earth? It’s incredible.”
