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“He is not joining a band.”

I look at Jack. “Your dad doesn’t believe in you.”

Lachlin looks at me. “You’re an asshole.”

“You missed me.”

“Not really.”

Jack has no idea what I’m talking about, but he laughs anyway.

From the other side of the patio, Conlin says, “He’s going to be unbearable if the kid learns guitar.”

“Going to be?” Lachlin asks.

Conlin raises his beer toward him. “Valid point.”

I hum the little melody I started using with Jack when he was only a few weeks old. He doesn’t need it to settle anymore, but he recognizes it immediately. His head tips against my chest while I keep going.

Lachlin watches him, then looks at me. “You realize he’s going to think you’re cooler than me.”

“He already does.”

He shakes his head, but he’s smiling.

Eventually Jack gets restless, slides out of my arms, and heads toward the kitchen in search of someone more interesting.

Mom comes outside carrying a bowl and stops when she sees the three of us. Her eyes move from Lachlin to me, then toward Conlin.

Conlin notices immediately. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

“You have no idea what I was thinking.”

“You looked at Lachlin and Briar, then Zander and Ruby, then me. I know where this is going.”

Mom sets the bowl on the table. “I was only thinking how nice it is to have everyone here.”

“Sure.”

“And that you’re the only one alone.”

Conlin closes his eyes for a second. “I knew that was coming.”

Mom smiles sweetly. “I’m not saying anything has to happen tomorrow.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“You’re still young.”

“Even better.”

“But eventually you might meet someone.”

Dad laughs from the grill.

Conlin points at him. “You’re supposed to help.”

“I’ve been married to her thirty-five years. I know when to stay out of it.”