Page 106 of Smoke and Glitter

I grab a menu from beneath the bar and slide it toward her. She doesn't open it.

Instead she says, "I need to tell you something."

I straighten.

Summer turns her glass slowly between both hands. "Autumn's coming home for the shower."

I stop.

There aren't many sentences left that can do that to me.

"When?"

"Next week. She's flying in Friday."

I look down at the bar before I ask something stupid like what time, which airline, how long she's staying or whether she said anything about me.

Summer watches me closely enough that she probably sees every question anyway.

"I'm telling you because you're coming too," she says. "I'd rather neither of you walk in and find out the other one's there from across my living room."

"Fair."

"She knows you're invited."

That makes me look at her. "You told her?"

"I told her who's coming to my baby shower. I didn't conduct negotiations."

Despite myself, I smile.

Summer takes a drink. "I'm not putting either of you in the middle of anything. You're both people I love, and I want both of you there."

"You don't have to worry about me."

She gives me the look that means I'm about to lose whatever argument I think we're having.

"Fine. I'm worried enough to tell you ahead of time. I'm not worried you're going to flip a table."

"Good."

"I am seven months pregnant. Nobody is flipping anything at my shower."

"I'll spread the word."

"Thank you."

She finally opens the menu, and I wait until she starts reading before I start thinking about Friday.

Autumn will be in Chicago. That fact moves through me slowly.

I haven't heard from her since she answered my first message. I sent the flowers, then left the next move where she asked me to leave it. I don't know if she kept them, threw them away or handed them to somebody in the office without reading the card twice.

I know what I hope. That's not the same as knowing what I get.

Summer looks up from the menu. "You're doing a lot over there."

"I'm standing."