“Is that his name?”

“Yes,” John said with a crooked grin, and let his gaze sweep over the circle of chairs. “Jeremiah was a bullfrog.”

Palmer called out, “Was a good friend of mine.”

Cooper added in a serious tone, “I never understood a single word he said, but I helped him drink his wine.”

Everyone in the group started to groan and laugh. Hope looked confused.

“It’s true,” John said to Hope. “Jeremiah the bullfrog is famous. Google it if you don’t believe me. Go on.”

Hope ran across the patio to David, crashing into his knees. “Daddy, will you look up Jeremiah the bullfrog?”

David pulled his phone out from his pocket. “Sure, honey,” he replied with a straight face, playing along. “Hold on a minute while I find it.”

A minute later the first words of the song “Joy to the World” blared out of his phone.

One by one they all joined in the chorus, belting out the lyrics, clapping hands. Linnea leaned back and looked at the smiling faces. Julia was holding Palmer’s hand. Hope leaned against her father. Cooper and John sat side by side near the pond. Emmi sat beside Cara, who looked at her with eyes shining in the fairy lights.

John truly was a Peter Pan, she thought. Only this time, she appreciated his ability to bring a group together. Linnea couldn’t remember the last time they’d gathered around like this on a warm night, singing together. This was a rare moment, and one she hoped they would repeat. The song ended, and Palmer was calling out for David to find another they could sing to, offering suggestions.

“I’ll get my guitar,” offered Cooper.

“David, find a Beatles song,” Emmi directed. “Something we all know the words of.”

Then Linnea heard a voice from behind her with a crisp British accent. “Hello. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

The talking stopped as all eyes went to the man in linen trousers and a white shirt. His skin was deeply tanned, and his blue eyes shone in the light as she imagined a bullfrog’s might if caught by a flashlight. She felt the vibrations.

“Gordon!” she exclaimed, leaping from her chair, and hurried to his side. “I didn’t expect you to come down until tomorrow.”

He smiled into her eyes. “It’s been two weeks. I’ve tested negative. And I couldn’t wait till tomorrow to see you.” He put out his arms.

Linnea hesitated a moment, more out of habit of not giving hugs, then stepped into his embrace.

She turned and, smiling, said to everyone who stared back at them with curiosity, “Y’all remember Gordon Carr.”

Most called out a warm welcome, except for Palmer and John. They were polite, but lackluster.

“Will you excuse us?” Linnea asked. “We haven’t had a chance to say hello.” Then to Anna, “Will you bring Luna home?”

Gordon held out his hand and Linnea grasped it. They walked out from the fairy lights into the soft light of the stars and the moon. Away from the prying eyes. Linnea was aware of every neuron in her hand that was touching his, warm and dry. They didn’t speak. The sound of gravel crunching beneath their feet heralded their progress to her home. By the time they reached the deck the sound of the Beatles’ “Let It Be” filled the night air, and she smiled to herself, thinking, Well chosen, David.