They continued to talk and joke as they passed plates of food. Augie had forgotten how delicious Zami’s cooking was. She was suddenly starving. Without meaning to, she also kept hitting Chat’s thigh with her own—lightning bolts of contact that were strong enough to overtake her full spectrum of emotions; in those seconds, she forgot Mrs. Crawley entirely.
When they were done eating, Zami and Teuta went to the van to grab supplies, and for the first time all night, she and Chat were alone. They were both pretending to ignore the energy between them, but she knew they each felt the pull. And as they stood at the sink washing dishes (Chat insisted on helping after setting the kids up with tablets), they didn’t speak. But minutes later, as Augie handed him a plate to dry, he lowered his head toward her.
“So, are you thinking it or what?”
“What?”
“‘I was never supposed to see you again,’” he said jokingly. “It’s kind of your mantra now. Though I’ll give you, I didn’t see this one coming. I did not expect to run into you here, of all places.”
Augie pretended to be unaffected as she grabbed another dirty plate. “How do you know what I think?”
Chat took the plate from her and scraped the leftovers into the disposal.
“Fine.” Augie sighed. “‘I was never supposed to see you again.’” She matched his tone. “But I wasn’t thinking it, because I kind of knew you’d be here.”
Chat’s face lit up. “I’m going to take that as a good sign. The fact that you came anyway.”
“Don’t be too flattered. This is still my job.”
She felt his eyes move over her.
“I’ve known Zami a long time. He used to work at the Club, you know.”
“Have you known Teuta a long time, too?” Chat said, glancing away.
“Yeah, since I was sixteen. So, six years. God, that makes me feel old.”
“So you guys are pretty close?”
Augie hummed in thought. Again, she wondered if he had a crush on Teuta, too. She felt suddenly eager to change the subject.
“We’re friends, yeah. Like I said, I’ve been helping them out for years. That’s why it makes sense thatI’mhere tonight. That’s whyyouare the one who is”—she tilted her head—“happenstance.”
“I’m happenstance?” Chat threw a towel over his shoulder and crossed his arms, smiling.
Augie tried to keep her face serious.
“You are.” She dried her hands on the towel hanging off his shoulder. “You are purely coincidence.I was never supposed to see you again.”
Chat laughed a big, raspy laugh. “If it makes you feel any better, I never expected to meet you at all. Or to even be here this summer.” He picked up another plate. “So, I guess you’re right. It is happenstance.”
“On that note”—something shifted inside her as she moved against the counter—“how did you end up at this job? Where are you from, exactly?”
Chat nodded as if he’d been waiting for this question, then explained about the Savvy Sitter website, how his friend was a manny last summer, how he was from a town near St. Cloud. Augie sensed a hesitation in his voice, and she was about to pry further when he asked her whereshewas from.
“How do you know I’m not from here?” Augie said.
“Your accent. Or lack thereof. You don’t have our cool Midwestohs. You don’t go out on the ‘boht’ or carry a ‘bayg.’”
They both looked up and caught each other’s eyes in their reflections in the window. Outside, the sky was turning from purple to royal, velvety blue, a color like the inside of a ring box.
“Well, you’re right. I’m not from here.”
“So, home is?”
The question threw Augie. Home was here, wasn’t it? It didn’t always feel that way.
“I’m from Maine. But we moved when I was thirteen, so I don’t know.”
