My husband, Daniel, was sitting at the kitchen table fixing a loose cabinet handle.
“Maya says you’re supposed to behave normally tonight.”
He glanced up.
“That sounds like a lot of pressure.”
“She’s bringing home a boy.”
Daniel stopped turning the screwdriver.
“A boy?”
He gave me a thoughtful look.
“Should I ask for references?”
“Daniel.”
“I’m kidding.”
At least, I hoped he was.
He went back to the cabinet.
“Mark is stopping by later to return my torque wrench. Maybe he can help with the interview.”
I lightly tapped his shoulder.
“Maya will never bring anyone home again if you keep this up.”
Daniel laughed.
Mark and Daniel had known each other since their twenties.
They weren’t especially close anymore.
Sometimes Mark appeared at barbecues.
They exchanged birthday messages.
Occasionally, they borrowed tools from each other.
Their friendship seemed to exist mostly because of history.
