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"Happy. Exhausted. Annoyingly competent."

"So, normal."

"Pretty much."

She stirs the sauce. For a moment, neither of us talks. I can hear her spoon scraping the bottom of the pot. I can hear Noah somewhere in the house. Ordinary sounds. Home sounds. "I miss you," I say.

"We miss you too."

After we hang up, my apartment feels quieter than it did before. I finish my dinner anyway.

Javier and I find our own rhythm. Not the one we had in Oakridge. Something new. Texts in the morning. Calls when our schedules cooperate. Pictures sent without explanation because explanations aren't always necessary.

He sends me Atlas asleep on his back with all four legs in the air. I send him Julian standing in the middle of the construction site holding a broken cabinet door and looking personally betrayed by it. Javier sends a picture of Diego crouched beside an irrigation line at the farm. I stare at that one longer. Diego is smiling. So is Javier.

He came back?

Yesterday. Staying through Monday.

You look happy.

A minute passes.

I am.

My chest warms.

I'm happy for you.

Later that night, Javier calls. I answer from bed. "You're up late."

"So are you."

"It's ten thirty."

"Exactly."

I smile into the dark. "How was your day?"

"Good. Diego and I spent most of it fixing something he says wasn't technically broken."

"He's an engineer. You're going to have to get used to that."

"Apparently."

There's something different in his voice when he talks about Diego now. Easier. Still careful. But happy.

"How's the restaurant?"

"Loud."

"That good?"

"That good."

He laughs. I tell him about the new private dining room. He tells me Jack put Nate and Luis in charge of rebuilding part of the south fence and has already regretted giving them access to the tractor. We talk for twelve minutes. Then someone knocks on his door.

"Diego," he says. "We're supposed to watch a game."