“If there’s one thing you’re not, it’s that. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.” Fox’s frown intensifies, quick and angry, but it smooths back out into his grumpy neutral like it never happened. “I thought I was in love. Once. But I don’t think I was.”

“Why did you think you were?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

Fox actually begins to fidget—right leg bouncing, free hand tapping the seat. “I don’t like talking about this kind of stuff.” He shakes his head as if that’s the end of the conversation.

Joy scoffs quietly, partially hiding her face behind their joined hands. She presses the back of his hand directly to her cheek. “When it’s about you. Let’s be specific: You’re fine to analyze and talk about me and Malcolm, but when it’s you? Instant reversion to a grumpy potato.”

“Hmm.”

“That’s what I thought.”

They enjoy the rest of the ride in a comfortable silence. There isn’t much to see—if you’ve seen one vineyard, you’ve seen them all. A million rows of vibrant green leaves, dark brown stems, plump purple and green grapes. It only takes ten minutes before they pull up to the front of the restaurant.

Before they get out, Fox says, “Remember, the goal is to have fun. Nothing else.”

Joy nods.

“If he notices, if he says anything, then we’ll take it from there. Otherwise, no pressure. This is a completely passive play.”

“Aye, aye.”

“You still want to do this, right?”

“Oh yeah.” Joy gives his hand two gentle squeezes. “I do.” For me.

Sixteen

The air conditioning inside the restaurant is a welcome relief from the outside weather.

A host, Mary—with flaming red hair, light brown skin, and a face full of freckles—sits them at a table on the second-floor balcony under an oversized umbrella. She explains the details of their packages and how the wine tasting works, encouraging them all to not actually imbibe the wine if they don’t wish to get drunk very quickly. The food that will be brought out will all be complementary to whatever wine group they’re sampling at the moment.

“This should be fun,” Summer says, slightly bouncing in her seat. “I’m going to go to the restroom first.”

“Me too,” Fox says. And they leave together.

“Joy.” For once, Malcolm wastes no time. “I didn’t mean to talk to you like that. I’m sorry.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Joy smooths the napkin in her lap as if she’s trying to get rid of the permanent pleats.

“I’m just feeling really stressed out today. I didn’t mean to take that out on you too.”

“I know.”

“Do you forgive me?”

Joy sighs, finally looking at him. “I always do.”