I want to laugh, but I stop myself. “Say hi to Sue from me.”

“You sure you want me to? Your presence will be required at Sunday dinner if I do that.”

I nod. “Say hi to Sue for me.”

“See you Sunday,” he says, as he drops some cash on the bar and heads out.

I wasn’t expecting the warm hum that settles in me. I walked out on this town fifteen years ago and Jim’s acting like I’ve only been gone a couple of months. It’s almost like they always knew I’d come back, and they’ve just been waiting.

“So you’re going to come to dinner on Sunday?” Walt says from beside me.

“You’re going to be there too?”

“I’m there every Sunday. I married Patty.”

My eyes nearly fall out of my head. “Patty Johnson? How’d you manage that?” Patty Johnson was one of the most formidable girls at our high school. She was two years older than us and ran the school more than the principal did. Just like her mother before her, she was an influencer before the time of social media. She decided what was cool and what wasn’t. The sweater every girl should own, the boys the girls were allowed to ask to the spring formal. At fourteen, when she took up the flute out of nowhere, every kid in the school badgered their parents for lessons.

Walt laughs. “It took me a while to win her over, but perseverance paid off.”

“He married Patty?” I say to Eva, as she delivers a bowl of chips.

“A thousand years ago,” Eva says. “It’s been a while, Byron Miller.”

For a second, I wonder why it’s been so long. Everything’s so welcoming and warm and familiar. For almost a minute, I can forget all the pain that came with this place.

“I gotta go,” Walt says. “Patty watches Love Island with Sue. I have to go pick her up.” He pauses, and I want to make a time for us to catch up, but I stop myself, because what’s the point? We’ll catch up, and I’ll probably never see him again. I’m here to do a job—get the Colorado Club up and running. I’m not here to take a walk down memory lane. However nice that walk might start off, it’ll soon turn dark and muddy, and before I know it, I’ll be waist-high in cow shit.

“I’ll see you Sunday,” he says.

For a second I’m confused, and then I remember Jim’s invitation. It’s not like I’m planning to go. But maybe I should. I do need to get Sue on board. We’ve got to fill the vacancies up at the Club.

I chuckle. “Maybe you will.”