times in the last twenty years, wanted to meet up. The last time they’d seen each other had been the second time her mom met Tim. The first time had been while they were dating as teenagers and Eileen unexpectedly showed up at Eveleth’s high school graduation party. The second time had been after they were married, when Tim insisted on a visit once, when they took a vacation to Florida. It had been tense and anxious for her, happy for her mother, and obligatory for Tim. Since Eileen had missed the wedding, it seemed only right she’d missed Tim’s funeral, too, but at least she’d sent cards for both. Evvie decided to think about it later. For now, she had a Bluetooth speaker she kept in the kitchen, so she put on a mix she liked and opened the windows as it started to cool down outside.
The side screen door opened. “Grill’s working, and I didn’t burn down the house or blow myself up, so I’m feeling pretty goddamn great about myself. Got my hands a little dirty, but I’m giving myself a win.” He went by her on the way to the sink as she was drying the lettuce in a spinner, and without touching her, he bent and kissed her shoulder, at the edge of her stretchy, sleeveless bright blue dress.
“I see you’re getting out ahead on the booze,” he said, noticing the half-full glass of white wine that was already dewy on the outside.
“Hey, if I have to work this hard, I might as well be in a good mood,” she said, dropping cut tomatoes and cucumbers into the bowl. Just then, she heard the doorbell, and Dean finished drying his hands and said, “I got it, you do this.” When he was out of the kitchen, she reached over and picked up the glass and finished it off in a couple of hearty swallows.
By the time they got into the kitchen, her glass was full again. “Hey, welcome, glad you could come,” she said as Andy leaned over to give her a hug. “Dean’s going to go burn stuff on the grill, it’s going to be very exciting. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Yes. Monica’s driving, and Lori has the girls for the weekend, so I will take a beer.”
“Oh,” Evvie said. “I didn’t know Lori was taking them this weekend.”
Andy sighed. “Yeah, me neither. We’ll talk. Hand me some of that raw meat I see over there.” Dean and Andy went out back with the steak and sausage, and Evvie put on the pot to steam the mussels open, and poured wine for Monica. They sat at the table with their glasses, talking about the girls and about Catherine’s House of Presentable Brassieres, and at one point laughing so hard that Dean hopped up the back steps and stuck his head in to make sure they weren’t yelling—not that he said this. What he said was “Are you two getting in trouble in here?”
It wound up being a table you could only call “bountiful.” Monica had brought a round loaf of thick-crusted bread with a cracked top and crisp edges just shy of turning black. When she handed it over, Evvie had felt that it was slightly warm, and her eyes widened. “Did you make this?”
Monica held up one hand and counted off on her fingers. “Flour, water, salt, and yeast—that’s all that’s in it.”
The bread sat between a white ramekin of soft garlic butter and a big bowl of steamed mussels, popped open, all salty and lemony. The sausages were beaded with grease, and the steaks were comically macho, perfectly seared and so big they hung off the edges of the platter. Evvie had put a pungent, mustardy vinaigrette on the salad before they sat down, and the little plates, too, seemed overmatched by the task. They ate and they ate. And they ate.
“To friends,” Dean said, raising his bottle of beer. Glasses and bottles clanked together. Evvie already had a sheen of wine sweat on her forehead, and it was getting dark, so they closed the windows and turned the air conditioning on.
“So tell me more about this trip to Connecticut,” Andy said. “What are you doing down there?”
“I’m not even sure,” Dean said. “Fuckin’ out of nowhere, they want to see me. They already did everything but put a chip in my brain, so God only knows what this is going to be. Probably throw in front of