“Do you have the delivery schedule?” she texted, and then she walked downstairs. The kitchen still smelled like spices and seafood. Lily turned on the faucet and rinsed dishes, putting them in the dishwasher. The kitchen gleamed in the darkness, stainless steel and ceramic tile. She felt a buzz in her pocket and grabbed for her phone. It was Gavin. She exhaled and slunk out the front door onto the porch.

“What’s up?” he asked as soon as she answered. He was worried. She had never used their code before.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s late and we’re not supposed to—”

“It’s okay. Melanie is with her mom. Are you okay?”

Lily sat down on the long-abandoned play set’s swing, startled by the way the chains groaned. She looked up and didn’t see any movement in the windows. She could always say she snuck out for one of her five cigarettes a year. She reached behind the plastic tunnel and grabbed her hidden pack, just in case.

“I don’t know. I’m kind of freaking out about this trip, Gav,” she said. She pulled out a cigarette and the lighter before she remembered she was pretending.

“I know,” he said. She could hear him sit down. She imagined he was in his living room. She imagined what it might look like, what colors made up his life away from her.

“I just found out that Silas invited a friend of Mickey’s to come with us, for the whole time.”

“Seriously? Who?”

“What do you mean, who? What does it matter? A teenage girl, that’s who,” Lily answered. “And he’s acting like I’m the crazy one.”

Gavin sighed.

“What am I doing,” Lily asked, but it wasn’t a question.

“You’re taking care of your children,” Gavin said. Lily nodded and inhaled from the cigarette she didn’t mean to light.

“I don’t know if I can do it this year, honestly. I mean, what is he thinking? Inviting a stranger? A girl? He has to know what that will bring up.”

“Since when has that mattered?” Gavin asked. It was the truth. Lily took another deep inhale and felt the combination of nicotine and Gavin’s voice flood her veins and slow her down.

“I miss you,” she said.

“I miss you too.”

There was nothing for a minute but night song: a violin bow against the wings of countless crickets, the quiet sizzle of her cigarette’s tip.

“What if I can’t do it? What if I just can’t do it?”

“You always do it,” Gavin said. “You always do it.”

Lily took another drag of her cigarette and held it as long as she could, until her vision swam with blacks and grays. She didn’t want to say good night. She didn’t want to take any steps forward, not even one breath.