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“They’re great. I was just telling him that …”
Just then, Patty Delaney called Jordan from the kitchen.
“You know he made these for you, right?” Libby said as soon as he excused himself and left them.
“But, why?”
Libby shrugged. “He likes you?”
She didn’t reply, not knowing what exactly to say.
“It’s not a bad thing,” Libby said.
“It’s not. But …” It wasn’t a bad thing; it was only confusing and a little frightening that she couldn’t remain indifferent to him despite every logic.
“I’ll ask Luke to dig deeper about Avery.”
“Don’t. It’s not just her. He’s … We’re not … And there’s Chris,” she mumbled, knowing Libby would understand.
She did, given the way she rubbed her arm then.
While eating later, Hope chatted with Libby’s aunt as they stood close to the back wall that overlooked the packed living room.
“Just look at those Delaneys,” Sarah said with her mouth full. “A great pool of genes right there.” She chuckled at her own joke. “And if he wasn’t a little intimidating with all this”—she jiggled her hand in front of her the way Roni had done before, the mini-quiche she was holding sprinkling tiny crumbs on the front of her fuchsia pink blouse—“I’d tell you it’s time to forget about your ex, get out there, and grab yourself the last Delaney kid left, dear.” Sarah’s hair fluttered with the incoming ocean breeze, its color-of-the-month mahogany. “Now that I think of it, it’s like meeting a real-life version of Alain Delon. It’s a bit scary.” Everyone knew Sarah had a lifelong crush on the French actor. “I can’t believe he grew up next door.” She chuckled again, but her words, spoken in true Sarah form, echoed Hope’s own thoughts. “Oh, I almost forgot, dear,” she continued. “I’ll be available to babysit next week. I had to finish the inventory check. You can’t be too careful in a pharmacy.”
“Thanks. That’d be great,” Hope said, looking over at Jordan.
Being the host, he had been busy most of the evening, and she hadn’t found another chance to speak to him. At one point, she had overheard his sister half-whispering to him, “Great party! Your diplomatic experience shows. Pity to let it go to waste in this place.”
“Who said I’ll let it go to waste?” he had replied, squeezing her fondly to his side.
She wished Libby had heard that. Because, yeah, there was also that—he wasn’t here for the long run. Poor Avery.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You wouldn’t mind if we stayed longer, right? We’re finally together, all of us,” Roni whispered to her when Luke’s parents, his sister, and her husband left. Connie and David had left with Libby’s brother when his kids had fallen asleep. Aunt Sarah had left with them.
“It’s okay. Eric’s mom knows I might be late.”
It was just the rhyming couple, Roni and Donnie; the “L’s,” as Roni nicknamed Libby and Luke; Jordan; and her on the porch with music playing in the background. And, as Libby sat in Luke’s lap on one of the Adirondacks and Don was getting all cozy with Roni, Hope felt her couple-less status acutely, just as much as she felt Jordan’s presence.
Because Don was there, the conversation soon revolved around real estate costs and the difference between Wayford and Riviera View.
“If you’re considering buying this house, you should try Riviera View first,” Don addressed Jordan.
“We don’t know if he’s staying,” Roni said pointedly to her husband, but it was clear she was trying to gauge Jordan’s reaction. “And maybe Riviera View brings up too many memories, what with Avery Miles and others.” She now smirked at Jordan. Roni wasn’t famous for her subtlety.
“If I stay and buy a house, I’ll hire you, Veronica. I hear you’re one of the best interior designers around,” Jordan replied, unfazed, using Roni’s full name, which she hated.
“The best,” Roni said. “Can you afford me?”
“I might have to go for second-best, then,” Jordan replied flatly.
That was a battle of equals, Hope thought. Most men were confused around Roni, but he wasn’t.
Don, always one to try to dominate the conversation, moved to talk about politics, calling Jordan’s attention time and again with things like, “You know what I’m talking about, Jordan. Am I right?”
Eloquent and fluent, it was easy to tell Jordan ruled that arena—well-versed in confidently communicating his opinion, short and punchy, explaining without mansplaining, contradicting without sounding criticizing. And to imagine he had done all that not just with small-town lawyer Donnie but with D.C. sharks on a daily basis for many years.
