The summer BBQ is exactly as boring as I expected.
Neighbours clustered around the grill comparing lawn care strategies. Mom’s book club friends drinking white wine and laughing too loud. Dad’s coworkers talking about quarterly reports like anyone cares.
I’m counting down the minutes until I can escape to my room without seeming rude.
Then Michael arrives.
My dad’s best friend since college. The man who taught me how to ride a bike when I was six, who came to every birthday party, who’s been a permanent fixture at every family gathering for as long as I can remember.
He’s fifty-three now. Silver hair swept back from a face that’s only gotten better with age. Broad shoulders, strong jaw, the kind of quiet confidence that comes from decades of knowing exactly who he is.
He’s also recen
