Darren, Male, 53

	- Narrator, retired, father of Gwen and Victoria (Vic)

	- 5'11, beige skin, 195lbs, cropped greying brown hair

Audrey, Female, 16

	- High school senior, daughter of Duncan and Theresa

	- 5'9, pale skin, 140lbs, light-green eyes, straight auburn hair over her shoulders

Gwen, Female, 15-16

	- High school sophomore, daughter of Darren, sister of Victoria

	- 5'6, beige skin, 135lbs, shoulder-length wavy black hair

Victoria (Vic), Female, 14

	- High school freshman, daughter of Darren, sister of Gwen

	- 5'4, beige skin, 120lbs, wavy neck-length light-brown hair

Theresa, Female, mid-50s

	- Mother of Audrey, daughter of Joyce and Herman, widow

	- 5'7, pale skin, 150lbs, shoulder-length auburn hair

On the weekend before school was to start back, I woke and stretched and heard the sounds of someone swimming in the pool. I felt a small knot form in my stomach, certain I'd find that Audrey had joined one or both of my daughters. I slipped on a robe and stepped into the kitchen to make coffee, certainly needing to wake up before dealing with that moment.

Coffee made, I sipped it quickly after dashing in a bit of half-and-half. I felt the buzz kick in and was more alert by the time I stepped out onto the deck.

"Morning, Dad," Gwen told me as she paused in swimming laps. She was alone in the pool.

"Morning. I, uh, I figured you had company?"

"Audrey?" She asked, her voice just a bit softer, "Uh... no. I sent her a text to come over but she said she was busy this morning."

"Busy..."

"Yeah..."

"Ah, well... hungry?" I said, relieved though admittedly slightly disappointed as well that Audrey had not joined my daughter in the pool.

"Yep."

"I'll pull something together then. Seen your sister yet today?"

Gwen shook her head.

I set about making us a breakfast of fresh pineapple and bananas, greek yogurt and granola, and some prepackaged mini-blueberry muffins. While I was getting plates ready, Vic came out wearing her pajamas, her hair a mess and her expression sleepy. "Morning, Sweetheart," I told her.

"Hey," Vic replied. There was a big splash in the pool and Vic asked, "Audrey here?"

I shook my head, "No, that's your sister."

"Oh."

I poured my youngest daughter a glass of orange juice and she sat on a stool at the kitchen counter. As she drank it, she watched me cutting fruit a while before she asked, "Can I invite her to breakfast?"

I paused only a second before continuing the cut. I'd decided by that point that, whatever difficulties I might have with Audrey being near me, my daughters were her friends, and Audrey was a damn good influence on them. I'd already seen the impact with Gwen's newfound maturity and Vic's determination to learn how to play softball. They deserved to have their friend over, and I couldn't selfishly deny them even as it would be a bit like poking an old wound in me from time to time. "Sure, Hon."

Vic pulled her phone from a pocket and quickly pounded out the message. A beep signaled the response. "Um... She's not sure it's okay..."

"Because of me?"

"I think so..."

"Tell her..." I swallowed, and resumed, "tell her I'd love for her to join her friends for breakfast."

Vic typed out the message and a moment later the answer was returned. "Alright, she'll be over in a couple of minutes."

My daughter slid off her stool and headed for the bathroom. I continued to make breakfast even as my throat tightened just a bit. I hadn't seen Audrey since our chance meeting in the deli. I hoped we were both more composed than we'd been that day.

The doorbell rang and I glanced towards the hall bathroom. Vic was still inside, and Gwen, I knew, was still swimming laps. I sat down my knife and the rest of the uncut pineapple and went to the door. Opening it, I put on my best friendly mask, smiling through the confusing mix of emotions racing through my head in that moment. "Good morning, Audrey."

Beautiful as always, even with her hair a bit matted and an old t-shirt covering her upper half, Audrey mirrored my expression. I knew it, too, was a mask of sorts, but I suppose that's how things would have to be for us until we could get to a place where we were just friends. Her eyes, though... Her eyes still said something more. I wondered if she saw the truth in mine. "Morning, Darren."

We stood a moment, silent, before I said, "Oh, uh, come in. Vic's in the bathroom. Gwen's in the pool. I'm just getting breakfast together."

"Can I help?" Audrey asked as she followed me into the kitchen.

"Um, yeah," I replied, "maybe get those muffins warmed up a bit in the toaster oven and get out the butter? That would be a big help. Thanks."

Audrey set about the task as we both ignored all the elephants in the room. I knew it was the only way 'just friends' was going to happen. We couldn't stop to talk about our feelings every time we saw each other. We couldn't keep telling each other how hard this was, how much we wanted something different. That would just drag things out beyond any ability to successfully manage our emotions. It was there. We both knew what was trying to surface. And we both knew voicing it constantly would only make it worse.

So, we went about our work silently. Vic appeared in the hall and said, "Hey, Audrey!" The girls hugged briefly.

Audrey told her, "Wow, you look great, Vic! So tan now!"

"Thanks, you too!"

I tuned out the rest of the conversation as best I could. There was something about Vic's growing boobs and Audrey's muscular arms and I did my best to ignore it all completely.

"Vic, go fetch your sister, okay?" I called over my shoulder when breakfast was almost ready.

"I'll go," Audrey offered before shuffling out of the kitchen.

I turned just in time to see her leave, not missing the way her adorable backside, even in a pair of gym shorts, still drew me to watch every movement. I shuddered and brought myself back under control.

Vic watched me a moment, then said, "Will it get any easier for you?"

I looked down at the plates of food in front of me on the counter. "I hope so..."

"Sorry, Dad..."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Vic... It just takes time. Odds are... one day you'll have your heart broken and it will suck. I hope that never happens, but the odds are good it will. Few things hurt worse."

"I know," Vic assured me, "but... you still see her around... in our house... That must be even harder."

"I really don't want to talk about it..."

"Okay..."

Audrey returned more slowly than she'd left. Her expression gave me the sense that she'd heard at least part of the conversation, but she said nothing about it. "Gwen's coming."

We silently sat the plates and bowls around the table and sat down. Gwen came in moments later, still wearing her one-piece swimsuit but covered with a thick, plush towel. "Mmm, looks good. I'm starving!"

It was a little easier than expected, to eat dinner with Audrey and my daughters. They kept up a steady conversation about sports and dancing and Audrey's plans after graduation. I said little and just let the moment pass by with as little sadness as possible. I could see in Audrey's expressions, the few times she caught my eye, that it was tough for her, too, but not like the day in the deli. Having Gwen and Vic to buffer our time together made a big difference.

- - -

School started a couple of days later and I'd managed to push through a few visits from Audrey. She stayed around my daughters, talking and swimming and helping Vic practice softball swings in the yard. I read and lounged and did nothing with myself.

I was becoming bored, honestly. During the day, my girls were gone and there was little to do with my time but what I'd been doing since I retired. I needed a hobby and badly. But nothing really came to mind. I loved reading. That really was my hobby. But it left me isolated more often than was good for me. Sure, for a long time, that isolation felt necessary to deal with losing Audrey. But I was starting to miss other people, and the loneliness I was feeling was only made worse because seeking out Audrey was not an option.

Weeks passed rather quickly. I started going for long walks during the day, stopping for coffee or a soft taco from one of the regular food trucks near my house. I went to movies alone. I almost went to an Astros game, but that was too close a connection to Audrey.

The longing for her did get better even though I saw her several times each week when she came over to swim or work with Vic. I understood her own classes were going well and that she was ready to start the serious baseball season around the winter holidays.

And then the bomb dropped. The one I'd been dreading all those months. The one which I knew I was selfish to feel so personally.

"She's got a boyfriend," Vic told me softly as we walked in from our one-on-one dinner that night, her sister and Audrey swimming in the pool, "she texted me yesterday."

"Ah," I said, deflated even though I tried really hard to stop that sinking feeling.

"Sorry, Dad."

"It's okay, Vic. I'm happy for her," I lied. I wanted to be happy for Audrey. Instead, all I felt was betrayal and jealousy. I tried not to let it show. "I'm sure he's a nice kid."

Vic shrugged and plopped down on the couch, looking out at the pool. "I suppose. He's coming to her house on Sunday to meet Audrey's grandparents."

"Ah," I repeated.

"I wish you'd find a girlfriend, Dad. You deserve to be happy."

I sat next to her on the couch and offered a weary smile. "Thanks. Just not that interested right now."

"But," she said, leaning against my shoulder, "I know you're lonely..."

"I am," I replied softly. "I'm just not really over Audrey, I guess."

As I spoke her name, the teen rose up out of the pool. The sleek, one-piece suit was tight and, thankfully, muted the blossoming curves of Audrey's body. I had to look away, regardless.

"Well, I wish you would try, Dad," Vic said, holding my hand. "Promise me you'll try."

"I promise, Vic."

- - -

Vic made the softball team despite her inexperience and she started to grow physically. My youngest daughter was starting to look more like a young woman, and Gwen, well, she was a woman in all but name. Together, they continued to surprise me, maturing emotionally, fighting much less, pouting less often, being more helpful. Gwen got her car, and her birth control, though as far as I knew, she wasn't seriously dating anyone. She'd gone out on a few dates, but I hadn't heard of anyone steady. Vic would have let me know if Gwen was getting serious.

I knew that didn't mean she wasn't having sex, but I liked to believe that my eldest daughter was being selective in who she took to bed and waiting for the right guy. I knew it was sexist. I wouldn't have thought that had I had a son, but it was instinctive. I tried not to hold her back when she wanted to do something more mature, and I surely wasn't going to flip my lid if Gwen decided to have sex. That's why I wanted her to take birth control in the first place.

My daughters, at least, buoyed me during a period of months where everything else felt muted and grey.

I avoided meeting or even seeing Audrey's boyfriend, a seventeen-year old named Travis. Such a Houston name. Travis. I suppose I hated Travis, though I really knew nothing other than his name and that he was dating Audrey. Probably fucking her.

I hated the jealousy, but it did subside as the weeks went by. I wanted Audrey to be happy. What we had was over and in the past. The only way to go was away from those weeks, not towards them. Slowly, I let that slide further back in my head.

I really did hope Audrey was happy.

She turned sixteen in November. I only remembered that because, at some point, I'd set that date in my phone's calendar, and I woke on the morning of the 12th to an alert about her birthday.

The weeks since school started had gone by so fast that I hadn't even made plans yet for Thanksgiving or winter break. We usually went out of town for a long weekend for the former, just the three of us, but this year, Gwen unexpectedly won a regional spot in a dance final to be held the Saturday after the holiday, so it seemed we had no choice but to stay home. The final was in Houston, so it made no sense to bother making other plans.

And Christmas was a bit of a wildcard for us. We always went somewhere for a week. Sometimes we visited my sister in Aruba, sometimes we went to Europe or Canada. I liked to expose my daughters to other cultures. Before Audrey, I'd been looking into a trip to Japan.

But I'd forgotten all of that and as November set to close into December, I didn't really have any sense of how to get out of my rut.

Even though I'd promised my daughter that I'd try to find a girlfriend, I hadn't bothered. Even when she offered to help me set up a profile on a dating site, I stalled until it was forgotten. I didn't have it in me anymore. I was getting older. My body was still alright, but mentally, I felt like an old man. Audrey had made me feel young again. Losing her brought those years back with interest.

I almost never masturbated, sliding back into the same mindset I'd had before Audrey. I rarely noticed a woman as attractive. I gave that up again. One more piece of me to lose on the slow road to my eventual death. I had morbid thoughts from time to time, but my daughters being around kept me grounded. I don't know what I'd have done without them, and I dreaded the spare years ahead when they'd be old enough to move out and leave me all alone.

It was a few days before Thanksgiving when a daytime knock on the front door roused me from a nap on the couch. I opened it to find myself in Joyce's greeting hug before I could say a word.

"So glad you are home, Darren," the woman said, "how have you been doing? You've been scarce lately."

"I'm alright, Joyce, thanks," I replied. "My girls are keeping me busy."

"Oh, tell me about it. We have one of our own over there now, too."

I never understood how Joyce could act like nothing had happened between me and Audrey. She never seemed to see the twist of pain in my eye at the mere mention of her granddaughter's name. It's one of the reasons I often didn't answer her calls or when she knocked. It felt really tone deaf.

"I remember," I said evenly.

"Listen, the reason I'm over is that I wanted to invite the three of you to Thanksgiving dinner with us. We're putting out a big spread, inviting some folks. My daughter is flying in tomorrow to see Audrey and spent a couple of weeks with us. I'm sure you'd like to see her!"

I felt very torn, yet, the answer slid from my lips without much hesitation. "Sure, Joyce, sure. Thanks. I'd like that. I'll let the girls know. What can I bring?"

"Not a thing. We'll probably have about twenty people over. You'll like them, I promise. Nice folks we know. Travis will be leading us in grace this year."

Travis

God I hated Travis.

"That's, uh... great, Joyce."

"He's such a nice boy. Have you met him yet?"

I shook my head, honestly growing a bit angry at her obliviousness.

"Oh, well, you will on Thursday, then. Such a nice boy."

"Anything else, Joyce?" I said curtly.

"Not a thing. I'll have my daughter stop by to say hi when she gets in. I'm sure she'll want to see you."

I closed the door when she finally turned to leave.

- - -

Theresa did stop by the day before Thanksgiving. It was a bittersweet moment. We hugged and drank coffee, talking about her life in Japan and how she missed Audrey so much. She, much more than her mother, could tell that Audrey was still a tough subject for me to deal with.

"Sorry things didn't work out with you and her," she said sympathetically. "You'll always be a special part of her heart."

"I know. Thanks. It's been very hard..."

"Give it time."

"I have... I'm not sure it gets better any faster."

It was a shock to feel Theresa's hand on my thigh. "Darren... I'm lonely, too."

"Uh... I... I can't do this, Theresa." I moved her hand away and stood up. "I... You're Audrey's mother... I can't do that..."

"I'm sorry, Darren," she said in a rush, "I didn't mean any harm! I just thought... we could be kind to each other... for just a little while..."

I shook my head. "No. No... I can't. I'm sorry. I just can't."

Theresa looked down and appeared to be on the edge of tears.

"Look... It just wouldn't be right," I told her. "After Audrey and I... I just don't think that's okay for us."

"I know... You just... you seem so sad, Darren. I know what's that's like. I lost my husband. Lost my daughter because of my job. I'm stressed out and lonely and I miss the touch of someone who cares about me."

"I do care about you, Theresa. I do. But... I can't be with you... like that."

"I know... I shouldn't have done that," she said quietly.

"It's okay," I told her, relaxing a bit and sitting back down. "We're both just... in odd places. I wish things were different."

"Do you?" Theresa asked softly. "Would you go back and not make the same choices?"

I started to answer that, of course I'd change my choices, but I knew before I spoke that wasn't true. I wouldn't want to go through life never having loved, and been loved by, Audrey. Whatever happened afterwards, that had been an experience I would always pick, even with the heartbreak. Audrey's love, even for just a spare few weeks, was always worth it.

When I opened my mouth again, the truth came out, "I'd do it all again, Theresa. Every thing. I'd go through all these hard months again if it meant I could spend a few more weeks with Audrey. I'd choose her every time."

Theresa looked at me, smiled, and cried. "I know you would."

We hugged for a while and she stopped her tears eventually. I felt sorry for her. I really did. My losses, my heartache, were nothing compared to what Theresa had been through that year. Not even close. Yet, because of the feelings for Audrey that I knew were still inside me, there was no way I could be anything more than a friend. I had no choice in the matter.

She left after calming down and talking with me about her happiness at seeing Audrey and her parents again and how she looked forward to the vacation she badly needed. I promised to be over early to help with dinner, and I sat quietly by myself in the living room.

Gwen came slowly around the entranceway and said quietly, "That sounded... rough."

"Yeah..."

"She okay?"

"Somewhat."

"What about you?" Gwen asked, sitting next to me on the couch.

"I'm alright. Thanks."

"You sound sad."

"This is all bringing back some... things I've been trying to put behind me. Tomorrow's not going to be any easier."

"Because Travis will be there?"

"Because Travis will be there."

Gwen sat quietly, staring at her hands, then said. "I'd make different choices, Dad. If I could go back, I'd never make you break up with her. I wish I'd never felt like that."

"It's okay, Gwen. This isn't your fault. It's mine. I should never have gotten involved with her in the first place."

"Do you get to choose who you love, Dad?"

"I..." shaking my head, I paused before saying, "no... no you can't choose that. But you can choose what you do about it. That you can do."

She grew quiet again then slid close to me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. I hugged her back. Gwen cried softly, whispering, "I'm so sorry," several times. I shushed her and cried a bit with her. Whatever else was going on, Gwen was learning how to empathize. I took some comfort in that.

- - -

My daughters and I went over to Herman and Joyce's house in the early afternoon on Thanksgiving. I brought two bottles of the good brandy Herman liked along with two more of non-alcoholic sparkling white wine for the girls. Joyce met me at the door with a hug and I went in. Other than Joyce and Herman, there were only two other people inside, an older couple in their seventies who were seated in the living room. Joyce introduced them as Martha and Vance, old friends of the family and then left me with them to get back to the kitchen.

I made small talk with the couple while my daughters sat bored nearby. Herman came in and offered brandy from the decanter and I accepted a half-glass and began sipping it.

More people began to trickle in over the next hour, but there was no sign of Audrey or her boyfriend. The television showed a professional football game, which provided some distraction from the awkward silences I frequently experienced around strangers.

Theresa arrived with some last-minute groceries which she'd had to search half of Houston for on the holiday. I helped her unload them in the kitchen. Neither of us mentioned our even-more-awkward moments from the night before. She seemed cheerful, thankfully, and I did my best to keep a positive mood going. The brandy certainly didn't hurt.

I turned at one point and, down the hall from the kitchen, saw Audrey coming out from where I knew her bedroom to be. She looked lovely, if conservatively dressed. The sixteen-year old wore dark slacks and a light-blue blouse. Her makeup was heavier than I'd seen it before. She didn't need it, I'd always thought, but it did accent her gorgeous features.

Before I dwelled too long on how beautiful Audrey looked, a tall young man followed her and I felt dread. Travis. I knew it was him immediately. He was easily six-three, muscular. He wore a suit and tie, perhaps out of place for a Thanksgiving dinner, but I had to admit it made the youth look very slick. His red hair was cropped short and despite his age, he wore a full orange beard and mustache, cleanly trimmed and neat.

He followed Audrey out of sight and disappeared into the sunroom.

I turned back to unpacking vegetables from the recyclable grocery bags and swallowed my feelings of jealousy as best I could.

"You will get through today," Theresa whispered, "I promise."

"Huh?" I stammered, forgetting she was right next to me. I realized she had seen me watching Audrey and her boyfriend. "Oh... yeah. Thanks."

"He's a nice boy, Darren. Try to remember that."

"I will do my best. So long as she's happy..."

"She seems to be. He treats her well. He's on the baseball team with her. He's going to UoH when she does. If it isn't you she's with... I'm just glad she seems to have found someone she loves who is worthy of her..."

Loves.

That was a hard word to hear. A hard word to associate with how Audrey felt for anyone not me. I swallowed my jealousy again and remembered that this was no longer about me. I had to move on, and I had to be happy that Audrey had handled it better than I had.

- - -

Dinner was ready around five and the dining room had been set up to serve at most twelve of us, the rest set up at a table just outside, in the sunroom. I don't know if it was intentional, but I was seated at the smaller table with my daughters, five strangers, and Audrey and Travis. My discomfort was not so easy to dismiss.

I'd said nothing to Audrey, and she'd not sought me out. She was already seated when I pulled out my chair between Vic and Gwen. Her eyes almost caught mine but they hesitated. I looked away.

"Hey, Darren..." Audrey said, an even but pleasant smile behind the words. "Good to see you..."

"Yeah, hey. How are you, Audrey?"

Her cheeks looked a bit rosy and flushed. I wondered if she'd been helping herself to the brandy. "Good, thanks. This, uh... this is Travis. And this is Darren, my... neighbor..."

I met the boy's eyes and all I saw was my own jealousy. I squashed it, standing up slightly to reach across the table and shake his hand. His grip was firm, more so than mine, and his grasp was in control from our first contact. "Nice to meet you, Travis," I said with as much kindness as I could muster.

"Nice to meet you, Darren."

I could feel Audrey watching me as I sat back down. Was she aware of my discomfort? Was she hoping I'd like her boyfriend? Was she judging me for not being able to move on from her? I didn't know. Her eyes gave nothing away, and when Travis leaned closer to her and whispered something in her ear, she laughed lightly and shook her head. "That's silly," she said.

Under the table, I felt Gwen take my hand and squeeze it. She smiled at me as if she understood how hard this was for me. I squeeze back and drew strength from my daughter. It helped quite a bit.

"Travis," Joyce called from the dining room, "I believe you wished to lead us in saying grace?"

The boy smiled, then bowed his head, taking Audrey's hand in his along with the hand of the man to his right. The room grew quiet. Vic took my other hand.

I didn't bow my head or close my eyes. I wasn't a Christian and the words meant nothing to me, especially since it was Travis giving voice to them. Instead, as he spoke, I watched the others around me.

"Dear Lord," he began, "we thank you for this blessed day, for this blessing of abundance and friendship, for the food which we will consume."

Audrey's eyes flickered open, looking down at her hands. She wasn't looking at me, but I had no doubt she was aware that my eyes were also open.

"We ask you to bless us each day and help us to know your love and your mercy."

I looked away from Audrey, not wanting her to think I was obsessing with watching her. I was, to be honest, but it was unfair to her, especially with her boyfriend right beside her.

"We ask that your will be done, that your kindness and love extend to everyone."

I watched my hands where my daughters held them. I squeeze both. I could feel Audrey watching me. That awareness burned a hole in my stomach.

"For all great things are done only through you. We ask you to give us the faith to see it."

My eyes drifted, drifted, and suddenly they looked directly at Audrey's.

What did I see there? Longing? Sadness? Hope? Pity? I couldn't tell. I wanted to break our contact but Audrey's light-green eyes drew me in. Her gaze was a Rorschach test. I could see whatever I wanted to see in it.

What I wanted was to see that she still loved me. That Travis was just a way to bide her time. I wanted to see a desire to be with me.

Goddamnit! Why couldn't I just move on?

"And, Dear Lord, please look after our loved ones, those we care most deeply about."

I saw Travis squeeze Audrey's hand.

"And bring them joy and happiness each day until you call them home."

Audrey's eyes didn't flinch. We were locked in that moment, me floating in uncertainty and heartache and longing.

"Forever and ever, amen."

"Amen," came a chorus in the two rooms.

I looked away finally and felt like it had been hours since I'd breathed. I glanced back towards Audrey and saw Travis lean over and kiss her cheek.

It brought a smile to her face, and in that moment, I lost everything.

That one little contact. A simple kiss, nothing a mother wouldn't have given her daughter, or a grandfather his grandson. Yet, it said everything.

I think it also gave me the permission I needed to stop pining. Maybe. It freed something inside me. It was the proof I needed that things were never going to go back. I recalled it was me who rejected Audrey's pleas to get back together. It was me who gave her arguments about how we could not be together. Travis's gentle kiss on her cheek forced me to admit to myself that Audrey really had moved on. And it was goddamned time I did, too.

I swallowed the rest of my brandy and poured more from the decanter, then poured my daughters the non-alcoholic sparkling wine. I offered to pour for Travis and Audrey, but they each declined.

"I'll take some, please," said the woman to Vic's left. Her name was Rainey, probably in her mid-to-late forties, auburn-colored hair a similar tone to Audrey's. I'd talked with her, briefly, before dinner. She was a night nurse in the critical care wing of a local hospital. She had rather pretty blue eyes, but it was hard to care about that with Audrey so close.

I poured Rainey a glass and conversation began to proceed around us. I heard Travis answer a question about his baseball scholarship, then he was asked about the volunteer work he was doing for the youth shelter. What few glances I allowed myself towards Audrey showed a sincere smile. She laughed at his small jokes. She touched his arm regularly. In even the littlest things, Audrey showed her interest in her boyfriend.

I suppose I needed to see that. Part of me stirred, the part not lost to my jealousy. I liked seeing Audrey happy. It seemed, despite my dark wishes otherwise, that Travis was indeed good for her. He sounded like an upstanding kid. He played drums in a garage band, he both pitched and played left field, he held a black belt in two different martial arts. Everyone at the table was soon taken with him, and I admit, I was, too.

Good. Fucking good. This is good for Audrey.

I had to say that in my head over and over. I desperately needed this obsession, this longing, to be over. The relationship was over. Months over. I'd chosen not to revive it when Audrey opened that door. I had to get past this god-awful state of being which hinged on something that was not to be.

"And what do you do, Darren?" One of the older men at the table asked me, breaking me from my inner monologue.

"I, uh, I'm retired."

"Oh, that's wonderful," the man said. I seemed to recall him being introduced as Nelson. "I didn't retire until my late sixties. You must be only, what, mid-forties?"

I chuckled. "I wish. No, I'm fifty-three now. But I did retire in my late forties."

"That must be very nice," Rainey said, sipping her sparkling not-wine, "There's no way I could retire. Too many bills."

I nodded. "I am very fortunate."

"How were you able to retire so early, Darren?" Travis asked me, meeting my eyes. The boy surely presented himself as a proper adult. Even the tone of his question was polite and friendly. It was very hard to continue hating him.

"Software business," I replied. "I wrote software for driverless cars. Sold most of my equity for a nice sum, then sold the rest when Google decided to buy it all."

"Wow, Google?" Travis exclaimed. "That's brilliant."

"Yeah, was a bit of a surprise. Again, I was very fortunate."

"So what do you do now, Darren?" Rainey asked me.

I shrugged. "I read."

"That's it?"

I shrugged again. "I care for my daughters. Admittedly, though, they probably do more caring for me these days."

"Oh, sorry to hear that," Rainey said, "is it a long-term illness?"

I was confused by her question, then realized she thought I meant my daughters had to be caretakers for me in a different sense. "What? Oh, no. No illness. Just... they are just good kids. I'm a lucky dad, that's all I meant."

"Ah, apologies," she replied. "That sounds great for all of you."

Nelson asked her, "Do you have children?"

"No, never did."

It was left to hang and, thankfully, no one decided to follow up the question to find out why. I knew that might bring the mood of the table to an odd place if there was a reason beyond she had chosen not to have kids.

The conversation broke into smaller ones and Joyce came by to check in with everyone. "How is your dinner?"

We all agreed it was a feast made for kings. Joyce put her arms around my neck and gave me a hug from the back, "So good to have you over, Darren."

"Thanks." I could smell alcohol on her breath. Joyce rarely drank, but when she did, it made her a bit vivacious and warm towards me.

"You should come over more often," Joyce continued, still hugging me, "you know how much Herman and I enjoy your company. I know Audrey does, as well."

I swallowed my emotions rather more successfully than expected. I didn't even try to see what Audrey's expression might say. "Yeah, I'll try to visit more..."

"Good. Good. What is everyone doing for Christmas?"

There were replies about family visits and Nelson was flying out to see his granddaughter in Seattle. Rainey said, "I've got no plans. Not much family left these days."

"Oh dear," Joyce said, "I'd offer you a meal and conversation, but we've got a surprise for my daughter and granddaughter in mind."

"Surprise?" Audrey said, confused.

"The three of us are going to Japan for a week."

"What?!" Audrey's excitement was infectious. "Seriously?!"

"Mom!" Theresa called from the dining room, "Are you for real?"

"As real as my husband's love of brandy," Joyce grinned.

"That's great!" Theresa replied, "Oh, that's so wonderful!"

Audrey glowed with happiness and my heart melted for her.

Joyce said, "Darren, will you be in town?"

I shrugged. "We usually go away but this year... I've procrastinated on finding somewhere to go. Ironically, I'd been considering Japan for our trip this year, as well."

"Oh, you should go!" Joyce exclaimed.

I shrugged, "Probably a little late now..."

"Never so," Joyce retorted, "you have time to arrange things. Herman will give you our schedule. We should all go together."

The brandy in my bloodstream was thankfully keeping me from considering what that might be like, going to Japan and being around Audrey for a week like that. "I'll think about it."

"Oh, Dad!" Gwen shouted, "Please? Please?"

"We'll see," I told her, "you might have dances to attend, and Vic probably has softball..."

"I won't," Vic assured me. "Nothing from the end of school until January 6th."

I was aware that everyone was listening to our conversation, including Audrey. "We'll discuss it later."

I knew it would be hard to say no to my daughters on this one. To be fair, I'd always wanted to go to Japan. The opportunity, whatever the complications regarding Audrey, was one I would at least consider.

- - -

"That's so nice of you to ask," Rainey replied to my question about photography. I'd heard her telling someone at the table that she sometimes sold her photos of birds and natural settings to benefit a domestic violence shelter nearby. "It's something I love to do, and if I can help other women at the same time, it is just really fulfilling."

"I've donated to that place. They do great work." I sipped my brandy as we talked, just the two of us, out on the patio. Houston in late November can get cold, sure, but Thanksgiving day that year found the temperature in the high-eighties with a beautiful blue, cloudless sky overhead.

"They do," Rainey agreed. "I volunteer in their thrift store sometimes. I try to give back when I can."

I nodded. "So what do you do in your free time beside photography?"

"What free time?" Rainey laughed. "Not much, really. I work nights, which makes it hard to coordinate with my friends."

"Understandable," I replied.

"Must be nice to have your days and nights all to yourself."

"Sometimes," I said, "but it can get quite boring. I don't know what to do with myself when my girls are in school or out with friends. Never been much on doing things alone. I tried going to movies by myself and just didn't care to do it after a few times."

"I'd go see a movie with you, if you'd like."

I smiled, "Yeah. Okay. Sure."

"Make it a date?"

"Oh, uh," I paused, then said, "Yeah. Maybe."

"Maybe a date?" Rainey asked with a grin. "I'm asking you out, I think. No maybe..."

I stopped hesitating. "I'd like that."

"Great!" Rainey responded. "I'm off the next two days. Want to go tomorrow? Early afternoon? You pick the movie. Maybe grab dinner after?"

I nodded. "Sure. Sounds fun."