“Whatever you say, baby Bennie.”

I pull a bottle of Pinot Grigio off the shift to read its label, then it hits me. “Wait, dad called Aleck a cunt?!”

THIRTY-TWO

WINTER

Swirling the deep burgundy wine in my glass, I bring its edge just under my nose and breathe. The sweet scent of cherry mixed with the mild oaky bite makes my eyelids flutter.

“This is possibly the best pinot I’ve ever had. And I’m not even that much of a wine connoisseur,” I say, leaning back against the glass balustrade on Sondra’s balcony.

“Did I hear you correctly when you said Bennie picked it out?” Sondra arches her eyebrow. “I pegged him as more of a beer savant.”

“He is. There’s a naked woman on the label.”

Sondra and Keith laugh into their glasses.

“I believe his exact words were, ‘Winnie, get this one. Her perky Victorian tits are calling to me.’ Then he bought Cal a bottle as a peace offering because they were in a fight today.”

Keith shakes his head. “Bennie, Bennie, Bennie… I swear, if that man wasn’t your brother, I’d—”

“Don’t”—I push my index finger against Keith’s lips—“finish that sentence.”

Keith’s shoulders shake with a laugh. “What? It’s not my fault he’s the perfect package. Tall, athletic, adorable in a dumb-as-shit sort of way.”

Sondra and I laugh, and I thread my arm through hers to pull her near.

Sondra and Preston’s condo is only a few miles from the ocean. The sun tucked itself in for the night while a breeze has picked up, turning the damp oceanic air chilly.

A booming laugh turns our heads to look through one of two sliding glass doors into the living room where Dottie roars at something one of Preston’s work friends has said.

Keith turns his back to the door with a smile. “Looks like Dottie’s hitting it off. She may just get to ride the D-train tonight after all.”

“Blugh!” Sondra scrunches her nose, sticking her tongue out. “That’s Simon Ripples. His name is literally Simon Ripples.”

“Unfortunate name…” I tilt my head, observing Mr. Ripples. “Nice build though. Wouldn’t mind seeing him in some gray sweatpants, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, we do, Agent Obvious.” Sondra rolls her eyes. “Seriously though, he’s so full of himself he could get himself pregnant. And he’s boring. He probably just made a joke about his pre-workout.”

“Well, Dottie thinks he’s funny,” I say, smirking into my wine.

“Yeah,” Keith snorts. “But she’s so pent up, she’d laugh at a fart joke. That’s called the take-me-into-the-bathroom-and-fuck-me laugh.”

Sondra and I throw our heads back and laugh, leaning into each other for warmth.

When I lift my head to look at Keith, my eyes wander past his shoulder and land on Preston greeting someone at the front door of the condo. Preston steps aside and the man comes into view.

Aleck.

My chest constricts, causing flutters of heartache to vibrate through me.

Tall, dark, formidable Aleck.