I took Zoey’s coat from her while Bobbi kept hold of her arm and towed her farther inside. She let it happen because she was outnumbered and because, whether she admitted it or not, she was already smiling.
I hung the coat and joined her near the dartboard.
Pete set a glass in front of her with theatrical seriousness. “This is called The Emergency Contact.”
Zoey stared at him.
He looked pleased. “Dark cherry. Bourbon. Orange. A little smoky. Mildly threatening.”
“That is excellent branding,” Alex said.
Zoey picked up the drink and eyed it. “This feels targeted.”
“Celebratory,” Pete corrected.
“Same thing,” she said, then took a sip.
Everyone watched her.
Her eyes closed for one second.
“There it is,” Pete said. “That’s the face.”
She opened them again and pointed at him. “Do not get smug. I don’t want to encourage you.”
“It’s good,” Nora said to the room. “He’s been polishing the concept for two weeks. Based it off a traditional old-fashioned.”
I stepped up behind Zoey and rested my hand at her waist. She leaned back into me.
Darts started again two minutes later. Apparently, nothing brought people together like the chance to insult each other competitively. Bobbi demanded to keep score even though her math was openly biased. Markie shouted “DOG” every time I threw. Pete declared that he was leaving if I won. Zoey stood with her birthday drink in one hand, fully on form now, and every time she laughed, I felt the same warm pull through my chest that hadn’t let up since I first met her.
At one point, she tilted her head back against my shoulder and said, quietly enough that no one else heard, “This is a lot.”
I slid my arm around her middle. “Yes,” I said.
She turned slightly, just enough to look at me.
“But,” I added, “you’re doing great.”
Her mouth twitched. “That is a ridiculous thing to say to someone who is doing nothing but standing here.”
“Yes,” I said. “And yet.”
She looked at me seriously, then. “Thank you,” she mouthed.
I kissed her forehead.
Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her cardigan.
I felt her go still for half a second before she pulled it out.
Her expression changed the moment she saw the screen. Just a tiny pause in her whole body that told me exactly who it was before I ever saw the name.
Mom.
Zoey looked at the phone for a second like she was deciding whether this birthday was allowed to remain peaceful. Then she opened the message.
I stayed quiet and kept my arm around her.
