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“I don’t need a table.”

“You don’t need another coffee mug either, but that has never stopped you.”

“I have a normal number of mugs.”

“You have an entire cabinet.”

“So do you.”

“Mine have emotional significance.”

“And mine don’t?”

Claire looked at the table again. “Where would you put it?”

Noah hesitated.

She smiled. “You already know.”

“Beside the couch.”

“Then we’re buying it.”

“No, we’re not.”

Twenty minutes later, Noah carried the table toward the register.

“This is manipulation,” he informed her.

“I prefer thoughtful encouragement.”

“You distracted me while the cashier rang it up.”

“You were talking about wood stain.”

“You asked a follow-up question.”

“I’m attentive.”

“You’re dangerous.”

Claire smiled. “You’ve mentioned that.”

They collected Biscuit from Mrs. Evelyn and carried lunch to a park near the river. Claire had ordered sandwiches from Noah’s favorite deli and packed a blanket, chips, bottled drinks, and dog treats.

The November air was colder than the forecast had promised, but the sun was bright enough to make the picnic possible.

Claire spread the blanket across the grass.

Noah looked into the bag. “You got my sandwich.”

“Obviously.”

“And the chips I like.”

“Yes.”

“And Biscuit’s treats.”