“Trust me.”
He studied my face for a long moment. Seventeen years teaches you to read the person you love. Slowly, the corner of his mouth lifted.
“Should I be worried?”
“Not about me.”
The next morning, I drove to the hardware store. I took my time. I walked every aisle with a cart and a list, and I bought everything a woman living alone could possibly need to take care of her own home.
That afternoon, Irvin walked next door to Vanessa’s barbecue alone.
I waited thirty minutes. I wanted the yard full. I wanted every neighbor to have a drink in hand and a plate of food and nowhere else to look.
Then I picked up a large gift box, wrapped in shiny silver paper with an enormous red bow, and walked next door uninvited.
Vanessa’s backyard was packed. There were string lights over the patio, a table full of salads and grilled corn, and maybe thirty neighbors standing around with paper plates and plastic cups. Music played from a speaker by the fence.
