Before I can take the last two minutes of my life back, he’s already swung his muscly arm over my shoulder, tucking me snugly into his side. “All right, sugarplum. It’s showtime.”
I squirm out of his grip. “Please don’t call me sugarplum. I’m not a child.”
“Honey pie? Honey buns?”
“That sounds geriatric.”
“Well, we are thirty. But okay.” He resets. “Snookums?”
I fire a warning glare. “Where are you getting these pet names? And no cuddles. Let’s just . . . hold hands.”
He rolls his eyes, extending his hand again. “Fine.” When I slide my fingers between his, he yanks it back, flexing his fingers. “Ouch, is this really how you hold hands?”
“What are you talking about? I hold hands completely normal.” I grasp for his hand again, but he pulls it out of my reach.
“No. You have an iron grip.”
“My dad says you’re supposed to have a strong handshake.” This mention of my dad slips out before my brain even registers it. I think Renner is surprised too, because he immediately looks down at his shoes.
I wonder if Dad is here tonight, or if he’s buried in a mountain of work and obligations to his new family. Probably the latter. I shove that tiny pang of hope deep, where it belongs. Hoping has never done me any good with Dad.
Renner registers the look on my face and softens his expression. Our eye contact holds for a blink before he shakes his head. “A handshake is different from hand-holding, Char. Just relax for once.” He takes my hand again, softly threading his fingers through mine in a way that actually doesn’t feel awful. His touch is maybe the tiniest bit comforting given that we’re about to enter a party filled with our nearest and dearest—after missing the last thirteen years of our lives.
We walk up the small, groomed path leading to the gated backyard. Awaiting us behind the gate are at least twenty people, who erupt in cheers, whistles, and inappropriate catcalls （mostly from Nori）。
Renner tightens his grip on my hand and puts on his charming act as he waves hello.
“There’s the couple of the hour,” Nori shouts. She’s the first to rush forward for a hug before the mob descends.
It’s mind-boggling, being face-to-face with everyone you know. Only, everyone’s older, including Mom, who’s the second to approach with a hearty hug. She looks a mess, as usual, and her long, wavy hair is now streaked with gray. The years have weathered her skin, particularly around her eyes. Renner’s dad has aged too. His hair is thinner on top and completely salt and pepper.
“How are you?” Renner asks, embracing him in a weirdly long hug.
His dad shrugs away, seemingly confused by his son’s affection. “I’m great. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Before Renner can respond, Ollie greets us with two cerulean blue drinks topped with tiny umbrellas. He’s still taller than Renner with a wide, tapered athletic frame that Kassie used to fawn over. Only now, he’s a little less lean and slightly bulkier. His easy, toothy grin hasn’t changed, though. “You two look like you need a drink. Rough day shaping young minds?”
“You could say that,” I say with a forced smile. This is so, so weird.
“It’s been an interesting one. But I rocked my sex ed class today, so that’s a win,” Renner announces.
“Right on, man.” Ollie gives him a high five.
“Thank you, by the way. You didn’t have to do all of this for us,” I say, gesturing at the white balloons and lights strung along the fence, and the Mr. and Mrs.–themed plates and napkins on the food table. While Ollie has always been an excellent host, it’s clear he really put a lot of thought into tonight.
“Hey, no need to thank me. You guys are my oldest friends. I’d do anything for you, you know that.” Ollie’s sentimental tone nearly makes me tear up. He and I have always been friendly, but we’ve never been super close. Part of me wonders if my resentment toward him for taking so much of Kassie’s time has gotten in the way of that.
I wish I could say that to him. But instead, I just pull him in for a hug, careful not to spill my blue drink. “You’re the best, seriously.”
“I did fail on one thing, though. Couldn’t get that shrimp dip you like. My dad went rogue and made buffalo chicken dip instead.” He gives me an affectionate hair tousle before getting distracted by Renner’s uncle Larry, who is desperate to talk to him about the physics of home building. Renner whispers that he’s a retired physics professor at Cal Tech and has the world’s largest collection of Star Wars memorabilia.