the weather, the Mariners, and how the vineyards are progressing so far this year. Finally Murray seems satisfied that he’s proven to Mr. Ferguson that the Witlocke and Ribaldi families are just best buddies and that silly old feud is dead and buried.
They say their goodbyes and head out. I let out a long sigh of relief. I kept surreptitiously watching the door, expecting Carrie and Tonya to fly in and screech, “Lies! Lies!” even though we’d given the restaurant manager strict instructions to keep them out. But apparently they had some other graveyard to haunt this evening.
After they leave, we still have to sit there and endure the rest of the meal, because there’s always the chance that Murray and Mr. Ferguson are sitting at the restaurant bar, and it would look weird if we all went barreling out of there.
To get through it, we agree to eat without speaking to each other. That makes for a fun meal. Pasta primavera soaked in hatred, with a garnish of suppressed rage.
“Well, this has been awful,” I say when we’re finished. “You’ll excuse me if we skip dessert, but I can’t choke down any more bullshit. Sienna and I are going out for an actual date.”
“We are?” Sienna says, surprised.
I grab her by the hand. “We are.”
“Donovan.” My mother speaks up in a loud, pleading voice. “Can I speak to you privately?” Needless to say, she’s not at all happy that my relationship with Sienna has turned real.
Sienna’s hand twitches in mine, but her smile stays brightly plastered on her face.
“Not right now, sorry,” I say to my mother.
“It’s just that we’re a little concerned–”
“Enjoy your evening!” I call out to her with forced cheer. “Talk to you guys tomorrow!”
I hurry Sienna out of the room before my mother gets a chance to say something that she definitely won’t regret.
We drive home in the new car that I bought and am letting Sienna drive. She tried to say no, we had a minor fight, and then we had very hot makeup sex. Maybe someday if I get lucky she’ll actually let me sign the car over to her. Right now, I count it as a win that she let me put her name on the insurance.
When we get home, I quickly toss Aceto and Ducktape a few snacks and check their water. Then I join my wife in the living room. “Change into something woodsy,” I instruct her.
“Ooh, mysterious.” She grins at me, and we go into the bedroom to change. She shucks her dress and heels and trades them in for jean shorts and a long-sleeved T-shirt, and I change out of my suit and loafers and put on shorts, a T-shirt and sneakers. I gather up a blanket and grab the picnic basket I’d stashed away for us, with bottled water, Nana Sue’s chocolate-chip cookies, a battery-operated lantern, and a blanket.
We stride past the vineyard and make our way into the woods between our properties. The hush of the night is restful here. A chorus of insects creaks from the underbrush, and the sky is a sheet of black velvet studded with thousands of twinkling diamond stars. A fat full moon bathes the woods in a ghostly light.
Finally we reach the spot I’ve been looking for. I pull the blanket from the picnic basket and spread it out for us under the sprawling roots of an ancient oak tree.
“Can I make a confession?” I ask her as we sit down.
“Sure, why not? Wives can’t be compelled to testify against their husbands.” She looks around. “Whose body do we need to move?”
“Aw, babe, that’s so sweet. I’ll keep that in mind.” I point up at the tree. “Do you recognize this?”
She squints up at it. “I think so? I played in the woods here a lot when I was young – it looks familiar.”
“I used to sit up there, on the branches that were on our side of the property line, and watch you when you were playing in the woods by yourself.”
Whoops, that came out super-creepy.
To my relief, she laughs. “Wow. Your stalker tendencies started really young. What did you see me doing?”
“Mostly just building things with sticks. Sometimes picking up a baby bird after it fell out of its nest, to bring it back home. One day I saw you burn stuff. You almost burned the whole forest down – it was a dry summer. Don’t do that again, by the way.”
“Oh yeah.” Her face twists in a