“Thank god the weather held,” Aly said as she led the way out her back door.
I followed after her, laden with wineglasses, careful to turn sideways on the way out so I didn’t accidentally hit the doorframe and shatter one. “I know,” I said. “I was worried yesterday when I saw the possibility for rain. Don’t get me wrong, this still would have been nice indoors, but not like this.”
Ahead of us, two picnic tables were pushed together on the back deck. White tablecloths covered them, and running down the center was a series of pots and vases filled with white hydrangeas, the last of the season. We’d placed white pillar candles all around them, and each setting had a round wicker placemat with a plate on top of it and a white napkin pulled through a wicker napkin holder. Gold cutlery sat on each side of the plates, and we were just about to deposit the gold-rimmed glasses that would complete the look.
Josh and Nic had strung café lights on tall garden stakes overhead, and Aly and I had moved all her potted plants onto the patio to frame the table. Hurricane lanterns stood among the greenery, lighting the paving stones and casting the whole scene in golden light. It was stunning, a master class in al fresco dining that we’d only pulled off thanks to copious amounts of late-night Pinteresting.
The sound of crickets filled the yard as we put the glasses in place, soft music filtering out from inside. We’d gotten lucky with this late-season heat wave, but I could smell autumn on the air, that distinct mix of fallen leaves, rain, and rich, dark earth. It wouldn’t be long until the cold crept in, and it made me cherish these fleeting days all the more.
Ryan walked through the back door carrying two bottles of wine, one red and one white, Walter fresh on their heels.
Walter bounded up to me, the new elephant stuffy Nic had bought him in his mouth. “All done playing with the kitties?” I asked.
Ryan set the wine on the table. “Fred jumped onto his back and tried to ride him like a pony.”
I dropped to a squat, smooshing Walter’s face. “Oh, no, honey. Did the big mean kitty scare you again?” That cat was fearless, had no concept of his own size or mortality, and Maud was even worse. Thank god Walter was so good with them.
Walter panted, just excited to be the center of attention, his terror already forgotten.
I pulled the stuffy from his mouth and chucked it across the yard, and he took off after it. He nearly collided with Ben, Ryan’s employee turned new flame, as he rounded the corner of the house.
“Sorry!” I yelled.
Ben steadied himself, clutching two six-packs in his hands. “It’s okay! I saved the beer!”
“Who said beer?” Jackson asked as he and Taylor swept outside, carrying the first dishes of food.
Josh caught the door before it could swing shut behind them and looked imploringly at his fiancée. “Baby, pleaaase?”
“No!” Aly yelled back.
“I did!” Ben answered Jackson.
“Oh, thank God,” Jackson said. “I’m too uncultured for wine.”
“Not even in their little outdoor enclosure?” Josh whined.
“They cannot come outside,” Aly said. “They’ll just cry the whole time, and you know it.”
“What did you bring?” Jackson asked.
Josh stuck out his lower lip. “But they’ll be so sad all alone inside.”
“An amber ale and a pilsner,” Ben answered.
Aly stomped over to Josh. “They’ll be fine. Stop making me feel like a bad mother.”
“Hey! Are you bitches going to help me carry out the rest, or what?” Taylor asked me and Ryan.
I laughed and followed her inside, reveling in the chaos. This was only our third family dinner, but they all seemed to go this way, everyone talking over each other, three conversations happening at once, half a second away from spilling into full-blown chaos. I loved it, drank in every second and committed these moments to memories I could look back on fondly when I was old and gray, remembering my wild youth.
Wondering where Nic was, I stuck my head into the living room.
“Help me,” he said, slumped down in an armchair with Fred in his lap and Maud on his chest. Neither were asleep, neither were curled up. They just . . . sat on him, like they were actively pinning him down and he really did need to be rescued.
I went over and scooped Maud up first, depositing her on the couch. Fred turned in my arms as I lifted him next, presenting me with his big belly. Aly had him so well trained. “I have too much bronzer on for fur therapy,” I told him. He purred and started making biscuits on my neck, and I was helpless to resist, very carefully face-diving into his fluff.
Nic got to his feet behind me. “I think they were plotting something.”
I set Fred down and turned to him. “What is it with you and cats?”
He pointed past me. “Look at them and tell me I’m wrong.”
I turned. Fred and Maud were sitting right next to each other on the couch, staring unblinkingly at Nic. Okay, maybe he had a point.
I grabbed his arm and dragged him from the room. “It’s because they know they haven’t won you over yet.”
“I don’t think that’s it,” Nic said. “After Fred ran my guard dog off, Maud threatened me with a knife.”
I snorted. “Sure she did.”
We grabbed more food dishes from the kitchen and headed back outside, and the next five minutes passed in a flurry of activity as we all worked together to set the table, pour drinks, and settle down to eat.
“No Moira tonight?” Taylor asked.
Nic shook his head. “Her and my dad are at couples counseling.”
The fallout from the last Trocci family dinner was still unfolding. Stefan was nowhere to be found, and Greg and Alec had threatened to move out of their parents’ house if things didn’t change. Nico Senior wasn’t handling it well, to say the least, but I took heart in the fact that he was at least willing to continue therapy, and Moira had said he’d started asking about Nic recently. And not in an information-gathering kind of way, but like he was genuinely curious about Nic’s new life.
Who knew, maybe he’d actually make some progress and learn to be a better person. But we weren’t holding our breath.
“Where’s Tyler?” Aly asked.
Josh took a sip of wine and set his glass down. “He said he’s running a few minutes late and to start without him. Oh, and he’s bringing a date.”
Aly’s brows rose. “Do we know who?”
Josh shook his head. “No. It’s weird, I used to beg him to stop oversharing with me when we lived together, but ever since I moved out, I’ve had no idea what’s going on in his life.”
That was my cue to turn back to my own wine. Tyler had kept his promise and mostly let Nic handle the day-to-day operations of their new joint business venture, and while I hated keeping secrets from friends, this one wasn’t mine to tell—I’d promised Nic I wouldn’t repeat it. I just hoped that Aly and Josh understood when it finally came to light. It seemed likely they would, what with how many secrets they kept themselves, but you never knew.
We plated our food and tucked in to eat, talking and laughing as day faded into night. Tyler showed up halfway through the meal, towing a tall, stunning woman behind him. Stella, he told us. The pair looked like an odd couple, at first, him with his blond hair and corn-fed good looks, and her with her raven-dark locks and innumerable tattoos, but something about them worked. Maybe it was because they were both impeccably dressed, like they planned to attend some sort of gala or art exhibition after dinner, or the way they eyed each other as they approached, kept finding excuses to touch each other as they sat at the end of the table.
Tyler immediately started piling food onto his plate, but Stella abstained.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice lower than I expected, cultured. “I ate before we came. I have food sensitivities and didn’t want you to have to worry about it. It’s my fault we’re late.”
Tyler reached out and took her hand in his. It was a gesture of comfort, of kindness, the least douchey thing I had ever seen him do, and it had me looking at Stella in a new light.
Aly waved her off. “Oh, you’re fine. We’re a sensitivity household, so next time just let us know ahead of time, and we’ll make sure you have options. Or you can bring your own food. We won’t be insulted.”
Stella smiled, and it was like the sun had come back out to shine down on our party. There were a lot of pretty people at this table, but Stella gave even Josh a run for his money. She was obviously way too good for Tyler, but from the way he doted on her during the meal, he seemed to know it and was on his best behavior. I prayed she stuck around. With her here, his presence was 90 percent more tolerable.
“You want another beer?” I asked Nic as dinner was winding down. He’d finally started drinking some, and I found his rock-bottom tolerance for alcohol adorable. He was cute when he was tipsy, cuddlier than normal and more effusive.
“Are you driving us home?” he asked, leaning in to kiss my shoulder.
“Are you actually going to let me drive your precious baby?” I shot back. While the sun was still warm during the day, temps were starting to drop at night, and the bike was almost done for the season, so we’d taken his car.
“Can you drive stick?” he asked.
I slipped my hand beneath the tablecloth and ran my fingers over his crotch, framing his dick. “You know I can.”
Aly made a retching noise. “I heard that.”
I pulled my hand away and shot her a grin. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” she said, slugging down the rest of her wine.
“She really isn’t,” Ryan confirmed. “Just yesterday, I caught them—”
“So! Tyler!” Josh interrupted in the most unsubtle topic change ever. “How did you and Stella meet?”
The pair turned toward each other, sharing a look that seemed to encompass an entire conversation. Finally, Stella gave the briefest of nods.
“Well,” Tyler said, glancing back up the table, “that’s kind of a long story.”
