Wit accepted Nick’s six-pack and put it in one of the three YETIs to chill while we dug out already cold drinks from another cooler. Sage pulled out two short and squat yellow cans.TIPTOPwas printed in green across both cans. “You want one, Olivia? It’s allegedly a margarita.”
“Sure.” I nodded, a little buzz sounding good tonight. I just wanted to relax and have fun. While Nick and Sage went to scout out a good spot for our blanket, Connor volunteered to assess the snacks situation.
“Olivia!” someone said before I could offer my opinion on brownies. “It’s nice to see you!”
“Hi, Christian.” I couldn’t help but smile. There was something sowarmabout him. He didn’t remind me of my grandfather, exactly, but… “It’s nice to see you too.” I gestured around the blazing bonfire. “This is amazing.”
“It is,” he agreed. “My brother knows how to rally the troops.”
“What game are you playing over there?” I asked.
“Egyptian Rat Screw. Ty is cheating.”
“Or maybe you’re just a sore loser, Grumps!” his grandson called.
Christian chuckled. “Have you played?”
“Never.” I shook my head. “My family is more into rummy.”
“Rummy?” He looked impressed. “It’s been years since I’ve played.”
Then his brow furrowed, and I noticed him just barely tilt his head. His lips parted to say something else, but it was Connor who spoke instead. “Okay, Christian,” he said, appearing at my side with goodies. “What do you put in these grasshopper brownies? Your daughter said you made them?”
Christian smiled. “You bake, Connor?”
“Absolutely not,” Connor said. “But my mom does…”
“He distills his own mint leaves,” Meredith said later, when she joined the five of us on our blanket, giving up her great-uncle’s secret. She stole the last minty brownie from our paper plate. (Nick looked absolutely heartbroken.) “No one makes better brownies than Christian Fox.”
“Except his brother, arguably,” Wit countered. “Every batch of his brownies has been on point this summer.”
“Yes.” Meredith bemusedly rolled her eyes. “Betty Crocker has ensured that.”
“He buys the box mix?” I guessed.
“Always,” she said. “My grandfather has many talents, but I wouldn’t say basic chemistry is one of them.” She nodded at Andrew, who was passing a journal back and forth with his wife. She couldn’t stop laughing as he dramatically scribbled something. It looked like they were playing some sort of game.
I felt a slight pang in my ribs, somehow reminded of my dad and Erica. Individually, they could be pretty serious people—poised, Annie used to call Erica—but together they brought out each other’s goofy sides.
Sipping my drink, I tuned back into my beach blanket’s conversation. Wit was talking about how much he dreaded the day they had to choose outlet locations in the house.
“House?” I asked, intrigued. “What house?”
“Our house,” Meredith said. “After bopping around the past couple years, we’re putting down roots in our favorite place.” She gestured in some direction. Save for the fire, the beach was nowall darkness. “It’s being built near Paqua Pond.” She winked. “We got a really good deal on the land.”
“But we still haven’t decided on its name,” Wit told me. “Any and all ideas are welcome.”
“What does the house look like?” I asked Meredith.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. Her eyes darted to Connor, who had been texting for a while, then made eye contact with me. “You know…” she said. “You should come and see it sometime. We’ll show you not only the actual progress, but also the rendering.”
“It’s fantastic,” Wit said. “Grumps designed it.”
“He’s a retired architect,” Meredith explained.
Ah, I thought.Christian must be a math-science guy, while Andrew…
I glanced across the bonfire again, my heart rate heightening. Wait, what did Andrew do once upon a time? I blinked to see him on the Jaws Bridge boulders with his sketchbook, then on the Fourth with his easel…and suddenly felt like an idiot for not putting these possible pieces together sooner.Because, what if—
