Funny Story(117)

“I’ve never known a happier man who loves sad songs more,” Ashleigh muses.

Inside, Julia talks Miles into letting her take over the sound bar. He finishes making a batch of margaritas, and adds salt and pepper to the guacamole.

Barb and Lenore let themselves in a few minutes later, Barb’s arms loaded with bags of freshly picked apples and Lenore’s with a housewarming bouquet of lavender.

Mom’s cab from the airport shows up next. After giving me and Miles each a rib-cracking hug, she introduces herself to everyone without any hesitation.

We’d invited her to stay with us, said we’d camp in the living room so she could take the bed, but she’d insisted on booking an Airbnb with a home gym.

Harvey and Elda are the last to arrive. They knock, rather than ring, or else the bell just doesn’t work this time.

They make quite a pair: Harvey in his Red Wings sweatsuit, a box of cigars under his arm; Elsa with her pink disco ball earrings and elegant cheeseboard, wrapped in beeswax cloth.

Everyone’s here now. The family I didn’t expect, minus Mulder, who is strictly banned from poker night, due to strong language, smoking, gambling—take your pick, really. He’s not allowed to join until he’s eighteen, the same rule Ashleigh’s parents had for her.

I take Harvey and Elda back to the living room, and there’s one last round of introductions for Mom. She doesn’t drink often, so her few sips of margarita must be hitting her: she tears up when she shakes Harvey’s hand, and thanks him for “taking such good care of my girl.”

“She’s a great employee,” he says, “and a wonderful friend. Terrible poker player, though.”

Mom cackles. “She’s always been too honest for her own good. Except that one time you told that girl you grew up on a horse farm. Remember that, Daphne?”

“I’d finally sort of forgotten,” I say.

“And the time you told your ex-fiancé you were dating his new fiancée’s ex-boyfriend,” Julia puts in.

“What’s this, now?” Elda sets the cheeseboard on the counter.

“Harvey didn’t tell you?” Ashleigh says.

“I don’t gossip about the staff,” he says, with false and unconvincing sternness that doesn’t hide his grin.

Miles slips his arms around my waist, the woodsmoke and ginger smell folding around me, my heart pattering at the feeling of him kissing the side of my neck. I let myself lean back into him, the best feeling in the world. At least, the best feeling that’s appropriate to have in front of your mother.

“You really don’t know this already?” I ask Elda.

She shakes her head.

“It’s how Daphne and I got together.” Miles’s arms tighten around me.

Elda claps her hands together. “Oh, I love a good meet-cute. Let’s hear it.”

I crane my neck over my shoulder to look at him. His dimples sink into his beard, and it feels like my heart is unzipping, stepping out of its calloused skin, a glowing, sunlit thing.

“Funny story . . .” he says, but he doesn’t go on, just watches me and waits.

He knows how much I love to tell it.