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Hey, it’s Della. I got your number from Cricket.

My fingers shuffle over the keys.

Me:Hey.

Della:Do you have plans for Friday night?

Me:No.

Della:Great. Let’s go out and have some drinks.

I read her text again.“Let’s go out and have some drinks.”When was the last time I went out on a Friday night?

“What’s wrong?” Cricket asks, taking her seat.

“Della just asked if I wanted to go for drinks on Friday night.”

“Well, it would be memorable. I’ll promise you that.”

I smile at her. “Should I go?”

“You’ve been saying you want to put a step forward. Here’s your chance.” She flicks a piece of dust off her armrest. “I’ll keep an eye on the boys. Peter will be gone golfing for the weekend, so it’ll give me something to do.”

“Would you want to come with us?”

She laughs loudly. “With Della? No, ma’am. I’m a happily married woman and want to keep it that way.”

I laugh, too, and text Della back.

Me:Let’s do it!

Della:I’ll confirm the time with you later.

Me:Sounds great.

“Is she really as wild as you say she is?” I ask, setting my phone on the edge of a plant stand.

She considers this. “Yes and no. She did have two very burly-looking gentlemen leaving her house within five minutes of each other. And I have heard tales of her, another couple, caramel sauce, and a blow dryer.”

“Really?”

She shrugs.

“Mom!” Carter’s little voice echoes down the street. “Mom!”

I look up to find my son running down the sidewalk with his ball tucked under his arm. Another little boy runs alongside him.

“Mom! Can I go to the park with Hayes?” he asks, dragging in a breath.“Please?”

“My mom is going too,” Hayes says, pointing to a lady coming up the sidewalk, pushing a stroller. “See? That’s her.”

Carter bounces up and down.“Please?”

“Let me talk to Hayes’s mom first,” I say.

The boys accompany me, one kid attached to either side, to the woman, as if I might lose my way.

“I’m Freya,” she says, grinning.