CHAPTER 1 THE BBQ WHERE SHE CAME BACK
Daniel had not seen Sophie in three years, but he heard her laugh before he saw her.
It was Maya's 28th birthday BBQ. The backyard was full. Daniel was on grill duty, as usual, because at 38, being the uncle who grills was his assigned family role.
"Uncle D! You burned the corn again!" Maya yelled, coming out with a tray of drinks.
"I like it charred. It's called flavor," Daniel said.
And then behind Maya, carrying a small gift bag and looking windblown from her flight, was Sophie.
Sophie. Maya's best friend since sophomore year of college. The girl who had lived on their couch for a summer internship ten years ago when she was 20. The girl who had borrowed his old truck to move apartments. The girl who had always been... around. And always off-limits.
"Oh my God, Mr. Grill Master is still on duty," Sophie said, smiling at him.
Daniel felt his stomach drop in that stupid, teenage way it always did around her. "Sophie. You're back."
"I'm back for good. London was great, but I missed bad BBQ," she said.
Maya left them to greet other guests, leaving Daniel and Sophie by the grill. It was the first time in years they'd been alone.
"You look good," Sophie said. "Older. In a good way."
"You look... grown," Daniel said, immediately regretting how awkward that sounded. "I mean, you were always grown. You know what I mean. You look like you."
She laughed. That same laugh from ten years ago. "I know what you mean, Daniel."
For the next hour, people came and went. Sophie told stories about London, about her marketing job, about why she quit and moved home. Daniel listened. He had always been a good listener when it came to her.
"Why did you really come back?" he asked quietly when the crowd thinned.
Sophie looked at the fairy lights Maya had strung up. "I was tired of being far from my people. From home. I kept thinking about here. About college nights at your place when Maya and I had nowhere to go and you let us crash and made us pancakes."
"You two were terrible roommates. You never did dishes."
"We were 20! We were supposed to be terrible."
He flipped a burger. "You aren't 20 anymore."
"No," she said, looking directly at him. "I'm not."
There was a pause. A ten-year pause, really. Ten years of Daniel telling himself that she was Maya's friend, that he was too old, that he was imagining the way she sometimes looked at him. Ten years of respectful distance.
"Are you seeing anyone?" she asked, casual but not casual at all.
"No. You?"
"Not since London. The guy was... he didn't get me."
Daniel nodded. The corn popped.
Sophie took a step closer. "Daniel, can I ask you something weird?"
"Always."
"These past ten years... was I imagining it? Or was there... something? Between us? That we both just never said out loud?"
Daniel's hand froze on the tongs. In ten years, no one had ever said it plain.
He looked at her — not as Maya's little best friend anymore, but as Sophie, 28 years old, brilliant, funny, standing in his sister's backyard choosing to stand next to him.
"You weren't imagining it," he said, voice low.
Sophie exhaled, like she'd been holding her breath for a decade. "Good. Because I'm tired of pretending I didn't come back for you, too."
Maya called from across the yard: "Sophie! Come open your gift!"
Sophie didn't move right away. She touched Daniel's arm, just for a second.
"Don't burn the corn, Uncle D," she whispered, smiling, and walked away.
Daniel watched her go, and for the first time in ten years, he didn't tell himself to look away.
