“Oh, I see,” he echoed, tickling her side, and she turned to face him, pressing her mouth to his, and he settled again, kissing her deeply. Better this morning, he thought, to avoid conversation.

When she whispered against his mouth that it was, in fact, still early, he wrapped an arm around her waist and carried her inside, giving himself another break from counting the hours until tonight.

“Goodness, this has turned out to be a real disaster.”

Will rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, nodding solemnly at the same sparsely attended party setup that Nora was looking at in near horror. Lanterns hung from the fence, a string of fairy lights on the still-growing tree they’d planted together, chairs lined up in rows, a table in the back laden with unused flower crowns and unclaimed scrolls of poetry.

“It’s a shame,” he said.

“She’s going to be so disappointed. How did this happen?”

Will shrugged, feigning ignorance. “Maybe people got the date wrong?”

“It’s every month, Will,” she said, and now he was starting to feel guilty. He didn’t want Nora to feel this stressed. He’d kept it small tonight, family only, but he supposed he could’ve invited some of their newer friends—

“And this one’s the big one,” she added.

“The big one” referred to the larger-than-average annual summer poetry night tradition that had only started because of his unexpected inheritance in this building.

“Well, maybe a few more people will show,” he said nonchalantly.

She sighed and shook her head. “Marian wants me to go up and get my appetizer now,” she said. “Even though there’s only, like, ten of us here!”

“Sure,” he said, relieved. He sent a grateful look to Marian, who was right on time with her request.

Once Nora had disappeared through the back door, his neighbors descended on him in such a suspicious way that he could only hope Nora didn’t happen to look out the window.

“She doesn’t know a thing,” Mrs. Salas said.

“Corrine, lower your voice,” Mr. Salas cautioned, and Mrs. Salas cupped a hand over her mouth before dropping it again. “I’m just so excited!”

“This is the biggest production I’ve ever seen, Beanpole,” Jonah said. “But I suppose that’s only because I missed your big backyard speech way back when.”

He huffed in annoyance, still carrying a grudge over being the only neighbor to have missed it. Beside him, Kay—his girlfriend from St. Louis, in for another visit—slapped his arm playfully.

“Benny,” Will said, “text Deepa and tell her to come out.”