That settled the argument permanently.
On Claire’s thirty-eighth birthday, Maggie asked for a special outing.
“Just us.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see.”
Ethan pretended not to know anything.
Claire recognized the conspiracy immediately.
Maggie directed her through downtown until Claire realized where they were going.
The park.
The bench.
Their bench.
Claire stopped walking.
“You remember?”
“Of course.”
Maggie climbed onto it.
Claire sat beside her.
For a few seconds, they watched people pass.
A father pushing a stroller.
Two older women carrying shopping bags.
A teenager walking a dog.
Ordinary lives.
Claire once would have walked through that park while answering emails and barely noticed any of them.
Maggie leaned against her.
“What are you thinking about?”
“The first day we met.”
“I was little.”
“You were very confident.”
“I still am.”
“That is true.”
Maggie smiled.
Then she became serious.
“Were you really lonely?”
Claire looked at her.
“Very.”
“Even though you had a big job?”
“Especially then.”
Maggie frowned.
“I thought grown-ups with important jobs had lots of people.”
“They can.”
“But you didn’t?”
“I had people around me.”
Claire searched for the right words.
“That isn’t always the same as belonging somewhere.”
Maggie thought about that.
“Do you belong now?”
Claire looked across the park.
She thought about Ethan.
Noah.
Pancakes on Sunday.
Soccer cleats by the front door.
