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Bea gives me a wary look.

“To our separate homes,” I add. “Unless you’d rather go together…I’m not opposed.”

“Separate homes,” she says quickly.

I pout, earning a giggle from her.

A cab pulls up a few minutes later. I open the back door for her, and she slides across the seat before I climb in beside her.

The car pulls away from the sidewalk.

Streetlights move across her face in strips of gold and shadow. She sits angled toward the window, hands tucked into the sleeves of her jacket, thinking hard enough that I can practically hear it.

Eventually, she says, “It’s his birthday today.”

“Your dad’s?”

She nods. “That’s why I wanted to go out. Every year, I try to see some kind of live music. When I saw John’s band was playing, it felt…” She watches the city pass outside. “Right, I suppose. Like being near Dad somehow.”

She gives a small shrug, as though she expects me to laugh.

“That’s really sweet. I’m sure he’d want you to celebrate with music,” I say.

Bea turns from the window. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I don’t say things just to be nice, Doc. You should know that by now.”

“You say charming things constantly.”

“Only to you.”

Her mouth twitches.

“I’m glad you invited me.”

She holds my gaze for a second. “Me too.”

The cab turns onto a quieter street. Our knees shift together with the movement, and neither of us moves apart.

“I told myself I’d never do this.” She laughs to herself. She looks down at our legs touching. “Want to be with someone like my dad. A musician. Someone whose whole self belongs partly somewhere else, somewhere you can’t follow.”

I shift in the seat.

“And then tonight,” she continues, “I’m kissing one against a wall.”

“Technically, you kissed me on the dance floor first.”

Her eyes lift to mine. “That’s your contribution?”

She exhales, but there’s no laugh in it this time. “What am I doing?”

I could tell her she’s finally making excellent decisions. Pull her closer and remind her exactly how good the kissing was.

“I don’t know.”

Her expression closes slightly.

I turn toward her. “I don’t know what this is yet. But I know I don’t want tonight to be the only time it happens. And I don’t think you want that either.”