Page 46 of The Words We Lost

“Hi, uh, sorry. I wondered if you needed some directions? I always say my uncle and aunt’s house should come with voice-activated GPS.”

He flashed a grin. “Was just looking for a restroom.”

Only, he was literally standing in the hallway three feet away from the unoccupied, grape-wallpapered guest bathroom. She felt strange pointing it out to him, but what else could she do? “There’s one there on your right and another on the far side of the kitchen.”

He nodded. “Much obliged.”

“Sure,” she said, willing her voice to sound normal. “Are you having a good—”

“Cece,” Ingrid called, walking through the living room toward her. “We’re choosing teams for Catch Phrase right now. Have you seen my dad?”

“Catch Phrase—that’s great!” Cece exclaimed in a pitch far too upbeat to be considered anything but weird. “And huh, your dad?” For reasons she didn’t quite understand in the moment, she angled herself away from the hall and glanced in the opposite direction. “Could he be using the restroom or—”

“I’m here, kiddo,” Hal cut in, stepping out of the shadowed hallway. “I think I’m going to call it a night. I have an early morning on the water.”

Ingrid’s expression fell at his words and Cece couldn’t help but notice the way she seemed to be examining her father. “But you’ll miss the games, that’s the best part of the whole night. Patti just showed us the prizes and—”

He shook his head. “You’ll have more fun with your friends than with your old man. I’ll see you at the hotel tomorrow.” He clamped a hand to Ingrid’s shoulder, effectively ending their discussion. Only Cece could tell Ingrid had a lot more she wanted to say. By the time Joel rounded the corner into the foyer, Hal was already out the door, walking down the cobblestone footpath.

“I should probably go with him,” Ingrid said, reaching for the door handle. “I’ll catch up with you both tomorrow.”

“Wait, what?” Cece questioned, placing a hand on Ingrid’s arm. “You’ve been waiting for this night for weeks, months even.”

But she doubted Ingrid had even heard her, she was too busy studying her father’s retreating form from the window. “I don’t want him to be alone.”

“Sounds like he has to get up early. Besides, not everybody is a game person. Maybe he only likes to play cards. You should stay and win some prizes for him. I’m sure he’d like that,” Cece said, even though she still had an odd sensation rolling around in her gut. “It was super nice that he came for the dinner part.” It was way more than her own dad would have done, that was for sure.

“Hey,” Joel said, reaching for Ingrid’s hand. “If you really want to leave, then I’ll drive you home, but the after-party really is the best part of the night. I’ve been looking forward to beating you at Scrabble for weeks.” He smiled at her. “You were already planning on staying over at Aunt Wendy’s tonight, weren’t you?”

Ingrid nodded.

“Then it’s up to you. If you change your mind at any point tonight and want to leave early, then I’ll take you home.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.” Ingrid’s shoulders visibly relaxed as she released a deep breath. And then she leaned in close enough to whisper, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Do you have a sweatshirt I might be able to borrow from you?”

If Joel was trying to be discreet about the way his eyes drifted overIngrid’s figure, then he’d failed miserably. “You mean to wear right now? Over your dress?”

Ingrid nodded again, her hands rubbing up and down her arms as if someone had blasted the air-conditioning. Only, there was no air-conditioning, and if anything, all these extra bodies in the house had made the room overly stuffy.

“Sure thing. I’ll be right back.”

Cece hooked an arm around Ingrid’s shoulders. “You’ll be happy you stayed tonight, I promise.” And then she scrunched up her face as an idea hit. “Quick—while Joel’s gone we should make up a secret code so we can gang up on him during all the games that require clues.”

“I don’t think cheating was really the spirit your uncle was striving for tonight.”

Cece laughed. “Fine, then let’s at least go hide his plate of tiramisu and tell him there’s none left.”

“You’re a terrible influence,” Ingrid scolded, but at least she was finally smiling again. Exactly as Cece had predicted.

The rest of the night had gone according to plan. They’d laughed and snacked and teased each other mercilessly, all while Ingrid had worn Joel’s favorite gray zip-up hoodie over her gorgeous ballgown. And once all the party guests had gone home for the night and the three of them had finished cleaning up the aftermath, Joel had walked them across the lawn and over the short cobblestone path that connected Cece’s house to his. There’d been no more talk of Hal’s early departure or of Joel driving Ingrid home.

When they reached the lighted porch steps, Joel fist-bumped Cece, then reached to pull Ingrid in for a hug.

“Oh, here.” Ingrid began to tug the zipper down. “I almost forgot to give this back to you.”

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