Page 240 of ClickBack

The third one is my favorite. I say so before Nina can look at my face and make me try again. Bellamy chooses the second.

“Which did you like?” I ask Nina.

“The first.”

We all look at the cups.

“Well,” Bellamy says, “glad we could clear that up.”

Nina turns the cards over. I read the ingredients, point out that the third recipe has less syrup, and ask what she wanted the drink to be.

“Something people can taste the coffee in.”

Bellamy puts a hand over the second cup. “Some of us have other goals.”

Nina gives up and calls for our lunch. By the time it comes, we are discussing a woman Bellamy interviewed who kept rearranging the objects on the set. Every time the camera stopped, a plant migrated. By the end, the producer had marked the floor with tape.

“Did it help?” I ask.

“She moved the tape.”

I laugh hard enough to have to put down my glass.

Bellamy demonstrates the woman looking directly into the camera while sliding a bowl out of the shot. Nina tells her to stop touching the centerpiece. That makes it worse.

I had expected to spend part of this afternoon explaining myself. How long I was visiting. What Jarrett and I had decided. Whether my daughter was settling in. Instead, I am wiping coffee from my wrist because Bellamy cannot finish the story without moving one more thing on the table.

When Rae does come up, I tell them she has started unpacking and that Zion has assembled a chair he insists is correct. I show them the picture.

Nina turns my phone sideways.

“He looks happy.”

“That was my assessment.”

“Jeremy looks tired,” Bellamy says, pointing to the man caught in the background.

“That was also my assessment.”

I don’t tell them about Gavin. Rae deserves some time to know what she knows without my making it a story everybody else has heard, too.

After lunch, Nina has to speak to a supplier. Bellamy and I take our drinks outside, then come back inside almost immediately.

“Why did you let me suggest that?” I ask.

“I wanted to see how committed you were.”

We settle near the windows, where we can admire the sun from behind glass. She tells me which grocery store she uses, then changes her recommendation when I describe where Jarrett is staying. I save the address in my phone. She asks whether I brought anything to wear out, and I tell her I have enough clothes for several versions of this visit.

“Good. There’s a place I’ve been wanting to try.”

“What kind of place?”

“I’ll send you the menu.”

“Do we have to pass a test before they feed us?”

She looks toward Nina. “We should ask.”