“Jesus Christ, Seth,” I agree, in his arms, tucked under his chin. The right place. Always the right place.
We stand there for a moment. Several moments. Then Seth kisses the side of my head and pulls his arms away.
“I’m gonna turn the shower off,” he says.Chapter Forty-TwoSethWe’re half an hour late to dinner with her family. It’s at the fancy steakhouse next door, and when we get there, they’re already well into their appetizers.
“Delilah! I was starting to think you weren’t coming,” Vera calls, waving us over. “Here, let me call the waiter back. Do you want something besides wine? Here, let’s get another bottle, and we’ll also…”
Delilah gives my hand a squeeze before we sit.
“I’m so sorry,” Delilah says when Vera takes a breath, smoothing the napkin onto her lap. “I got the time wrong, I thought this was at seven-thirty, not seven.”
Winona, seated across from us, gives Delilah a look. Then she gives me a look. Then she gives Delilah another look, very clearly trying not to laugh.
My hair’s wet. Delilah’s hair is still slightly damp. She’s got one sleeve pushed slightly above her elbow, the bottom of a lake barely visible, and when she catches Winona’s eye she pulls it down.
“Didn’t you get the itinerary?” Vera asks, eyebrows raised. “I specifically asked the front desk to make sure they left it somewhere plainly visible, since I still remember the year they put it on the couch and Winona nearly missed our luncheon.”
“I did. It was my mistake,” Delilah says. “I should have consulted it more frequently.”
“Well, thank goodness you two are here,” Vera says, and smiles. “It’s hardly a family dinner without you! Seth, how’s your stay so far?”
Under the white tablecloth, I put my hand on Delilah’s thigh, just above her knee, and give her a slight squeeze. She puts her hand on mine and squeezes back.
“Wonderful,” I say, silently thanking the powers that be that Delilah did the lying. “This place is beautiful.”
Vera smiles, her face lighting up as she leans in.
“We were so happy you could make it after all,” she says, and Delilah squeezes my hand again.
There are appetizers, wine, fancy bread. Winona and I laugh about Bree’s hide-and-seek skills and her love of a television show called Dinosaur Train, which as far as Winona can tell, is pretty much about dinosaurs who ride a train. I tell her how much Bree reminds me of Rusty, and reassure her that Rusty’s the greatest.
Olivia’s moved off of nursery colors and onto baby names. Vera is regaling Delilah with a dramatic story about a fundraiser with an unclear charity policy, and how horribly it went off the rails. Her brothers-in-law are having a detailed discussion about cars I’ll never own. Salads arrive, and I triple-check that I’m using the right fork.
“Seth,” calls Ava, seated next to Winona, leaning in. “How was your first time skiing?”
“Second,” corrects Delilah, pulling herself from the fundraising conversation.
“It may as well have been my first,” I point out, and Ava laughs. “Hard, but fun.”
“Skiing is hard,” Ava agrees. “I can’t imagine having to learn as an adult.”
“The whole pizza, french fries thing did feel a little juvenile,” I tease Delilah, who smiles and rolls her eyes.
“Sure, but you remembered, didn’t you?” she says.
“It didn’t save me.”
“I learned as a kid and last year I fell butt-over-teakettle on a run that wasn’t even hard,” Ava offers. “One of my skis came off and a ten-year-old returned it for me.”
“They should have an area that’s just for adults trying to learn,” I say. “So no one has to watch us disgrace ourselves.”
Ava laughs again.
“Sure, but at a certain point you really just have to go do it,” she says. “Like, I was totally terrified of the black diamonds runs until finally Nolan just took Delilah and I down the —"
She stops mid-sentence, her blue eyes wide as she glances at Delilah.
“Down Crunch Street?” Delilah asks, taking a bite of salad.
“Right,” Ava resumes. “He pretty much had to talk me through every single turn, but he was so sweet about it. Anyway, it’s just practice! Muscle memory and stuff. Besides, you’re kind of tall so you’ve got further to fall and that makes it harder. Do you guys want more wine?”
Ava tops our glasses off. We keep talking about skiing, and even though Nolan doesn’t come up again, I can’t quite shake the feeling that he’s standing right behind me. That he could talk to Vera about her fundraiser and the brothers-in-law about cars, take Ava down the hard ski runs, know which wine to pick.
That maybe it’s no wonder he’s the one she married.
But then Delilah leans in toward me, her hair brushing my shoulder, and she points her fork at an olive on my salad plate.
“You gonna eat that?” she asks.
“You know I’m not,” I tell her and she stabs it, pops it into her mouth, smiles at me.