My daughter’s big blue eyes look to me for affirmation.

“Daddy says it’s okay.”

And I get a hug in return.

With my arm across the pillows at our backs, my hand rests just beside Sofia’s head—close enough to touch her. So I do—massaging her scalp, running my fingers through the soft, dark strands of her hair, relishing the feel of them sliding over my palm.

She leans her head into my touch with a contented sigh. And together, we all watch the rest of the movie.

17

Stanton

About ten o’clock the next night, we pull into to my brother’s trailer lot, among a sea of pickup trucks. It’s like spring break in the country—teenage kids everywhere. Mary and Marshall disappear into the throng of red-plastic-cup-holding, walking, talking hormones. Sofia pauses to look around as we walk up the path to the door—twinkling lights sparkle in the trees, a full moon hangs in the sky, Led Zeppelin floats out from somewhere in the back.

“It’s nice here,” she says. “Peaceful.”

While she’s checking out the compound, I check her out—again. She looks drop-dead gorgeous in tight, dark blue jeans, knee-high heeled black boots, and a V-neck sleeveless white top that clings in all the right places. Her hair is thick and bouncy, curled at the ends, and a long string of pearls hangs around her neck. My grandmother used to wear pearls—but she never wore them as well as Sofia Santos.

Before I can open the door to the trailer, it’s jerked open for us, and one of my brother’s blond hippie followers—Sadie or Sal—stumbles out. She spots us with happy, glassy eyes.

“Heeey!” She hugs us, smelling like marijuana. “Welcome to the jungle! We’re gonna turn on the Slip ’N Slide down the hill, y’all comin’?”

Sofia smiles indulgently. “Maybe later.”

After hippie girl staggers away, Sofia says, “It’s like college all over again.”

I snort. “Columbia wasn’t anything like this, and I lived in a goddamn fraternity house.”

Just then a guy who looks more my age goes streaking past us—butt-ass naked. I cover Sofia’s eyes. “All right, it is like college all over again.”

We head inside, pushing apart the strings of turquoise beads hanging down in the doorway. A stick of incense burns on a shelf, filling the room with a pungent odor. Carter smiles broadly when he sees us through the crowd of bodies that fills the room to capacity. He hugs me, bare chested except for a tan leather vest and prayer beads. “Welcome. Glad you could make it.” Then he hugs Sofia—for a while. “Let’s get you something to drink.”

Carter gives Sofia a tour of the tricked-out trailer and I’m relieved to see adolescents aren’t the only guests at the party. It’s actually a lot like a high school reunion. Everyone in my graduating class who hasn’t left town—which is pretty much all of them—is here. We catch up, and I proudly introduce them to Sofia. About an hour later, she says in my ear, “I’m going to go outside—get some air.”

Colorful Chinese lanterns hang from strings above a line of white rosebushes, framing in the stone patio. A bonfire roars further down, lighting almost the whole yard. I search through the groups of people standing on the grass and—fucking finally—I spot Jenny. She’s talking to tiny, brunette Jessica Taylor—a former member of the cheerleading squad. But most important, JD is nowhere to be seen.

Time to turn on the charm.

I pass Sofia my cup of Jack Daniel’s. “Can you hold this for me?”

She follows my line of sight. “Sure.”

I snap off the stem of a full white rose and show it to her. “What do you think?”

Her grip on the cups tightens. “I think she’ll love it.”

“If all goes as planned, I’ll be gone for a while. Marshall will take you home if you want to go sooner, okay?”

Sofia stares down at her shoes. “Okay.”

I wink. “You’re the best, Soph. Wish me luck.”

But as I walk away . . . she doesn’t.

Jessica Taylor greets me with a hug. Jenn eyes me warily. I hold out the rose to her. “A peace offerin’.”

Her face thaws just a bit, her pretty pink lips forming a reluctant smile. “Thank you.”

Jessica laughs. “Lord, I wish I was as friendly with my ex. He can’t be bothered to even give me rat poison.” She shakes her head. “But you two always were the perfect couple. Remember that football game junior year, after Stanton scored the winning touchdown? And he came trottin’ off the field, straight to you, Jenn? Picked you up and kissed you in front of the whole school—like somethin’ straight out of a Drew Barrymore movie?”

Jenny’s eyes warm and I know she remembers, the same as I do.

I’d been late picking her up, we’d argued. One word led to another, and by the time we got to the field she was swearing she’d never speak to me again. My romantic gesture dispelled her of that notion, and she spent that night after the game in the backseat of my truck, speaking all kinds of wonderful words like, yes, more, again.

Jessica moves on to refill her drink, and I don’t stop staring into Jenny’s eyes.

“JD fully recovered?”

She snorts. “Like you care, but yes, as a matter of fact. Carter brought some herbal compresses by the house for him—cleared up the rest of the swellin’. He’s inside the trailer right now, gettin’ more.”

My smile turns tight. “I’ll be sure to thank Carter for that.” Then I lean closer. “Why don’t we—”