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Tom lifts his wineglass to hide a smile. Daniel can be difficult, but he’ll show up. He always does.
The doorbell rings, and I’m out of my chair before it can ring again.
Ava stands on the front step with two white bakery boxes stacked in her arms. She’s wearing jeans and a soft green sweater, and her copper-red hair is tied back in a ponytail. She has a bright, friendly face, blue eyes, and an easy smile.
“Sorry I’m late,” she says. “The bakery gave my order to someone else. There was a short negotiation.”
“Did you win?”
She lifts one of the boxes. “They gave me an extra dessert.”
“Sounds like a win.”
I take the boxes from her, and some of the tightness in my chest eases. I’ve only met Ava a few times, but she has the same easy warmth as Tom. Within minutes, she makes you feel as though you’ve known her for years.
Before I’m ready, she slips one arm around me in a quick hug. I manage to return it without crushing either dessert, then lead her into the dining room.
Ava kisses Mom’s cheek, hugs Carl, and takes the chair beside Tom. I spent more time deciding where to seat her than I did choosing the food. Daniel’s place is directly across from hers. I don’t expect him to warm to Carl, but Ava might be different. She’s open and easy to like, and none of what happened was her fault. Maybe sitting across from her will help Daniel see that.
“How’s work?” Mom asks once Ava is settled.
“Busy. I have three parties next month, and Eric asked me to pitch for the Voss Awards gala.”
Mom turns to me. “You did?”
Before I can answer, the doorbell rings, and I head for the door.
Daniel is twenty minutes late. He looks as if he’s come straight from the golf course, dressed in a pale-blue polo, stone trousers, and suede loafers. His sunglasses hang from one hand, and there’s nothing hurried or apologetic about him.
Mom’s face lights up when he walks into the dining room. “You came.”
“Said I would,” he says.
Daniel taps Tom on the shoulder as he passes, then bends to kiss Mom’s cheek. He doesn’t acknowledge Carl. Ava is directly in his path, but he walks past without looking at her.
Smooth.
She twists in her chair to watch him. “Hello to you too.”
Daniel places his sunglasses beside his plate. “Hello, Ava.”
“How have you been?” Ava asks easily, though I can’t remember the last time she and Daniel spoke—or whether they’ve ever had a real conversation.
“Busy.”
He takes the seat beside me and reaches for his water. Ava waits for more, but Daniel keeps his attention on his glass. She doesn’t look offended. She simply turns back to the table and takes another sip of wine.
This is going to take more work than I thought.
I glance at Jackson’s empty place. He never answered the invitation, and I’ve run out of reasons to expect him.
“We should start.”
The first few minutes are stiff, filled with the quiet scrape of knives and forks. Ava soon gets the conversation moving. She asks Mom about Greece, draws Carl into a story about a fishing boat, and pulls Tom in whenever he gets too comfortable watching everyone else do the talking. Daniel only speaks when someone asks him a direct question. Otherwise, he keeps his eyes on his plate.
Ava angles herself toward him and glances at the Crestwood logo stitched onto his polo. “You play golf?”
“Yes.”