Lena's first attempt to give Daniel something back was badly timed.
There was a little outdoor music evening on Saturday at the old harbour steps. Daniel had mentioned it before Nate returned. She'd said perhaps, then let perhaps become a thing neither of them asked about again.
On Wednesday she found the listing still open and bought two tickets before checking the café rota.
Jo looked at the tickets.
“Saturday's group arrives at five thirty. Who closes?”
“I could do Friday. You leave at four.”
“I wanted Saturday off too, Len.”
Lena lowered the phone. The tickets were already paid for.
“Would Friday work at all?”
Jo thought, then nodded. “I can move it to Friday. But you do Monday early on your own. I stay home until ten.”
Lena had planned to spend that morning finishing the garden drawing.
“All right.”
They shook hands, an old joke from childhood bargains. Jo's hand was floury. Lena brushed the mark from her palm. Monday's drawing would wait.
When she showed Daniel the tickets, he kissed her so enthusiastically she nearly dropped the phone.
“You remembered.”
“I do listen sometimes.”
“More than sometimes.”
She rested against him a little longer than usual. His pleasure made the whole trade seem simpler.
On Friday Jo left at four, carrying her own bag as if she suspected Lena might call her back. Lena waved her away. The last hour was slow until three wet walkers arrived wanting hot drinks and whatever food remained. She fed them, stacked chairs around them and let their grateful talk keep her company.
She finished at seven. Daniel had left a bowl of food covered in the kitchen. He was at a friend's house helping with something small, not a job he could bill for. His note said he would be home by nine.
Lena ate alone, glad for the food and vaguely disappointed at the empty chair. She sat facing the window.
Saturday evening made up for it.
She met Daniel by the harbour steps after Jo had taken over the café close. The musicians were still checking the sound. People sat on cushions, on folded jackets, on the bare stone. Daniel had brought the light blanket from their sofa and a bag of nuts she disliked, because he had forgotten she disliked them.
“Three years,” she said, holding one up.
“I remembered the blanket.”
“I'll give you that.”
They bought a paper cone of roasted potatoes instead. Daniel held it between them while Lena leaned against his shoulder. The first band was louder than either expected. They moved back a row without talking about whose preference mattered.
As the light went, someone began to dance near the water. Then another person joined in. Daniel usually needed asking twice. Tonight he stood and offered his hand before Lena could prepare a campaign.
“Really?”
“Before you say you used to be fun again.”
She laughed and went with him.
He was not a graceful dancer. He watched other people's feet too much and kept turning her toward the wrong side. She liked him better for trying without making it into a joke first. When the song slowed, she put her head near his neck and felt his hand settle at her back.
They walked home through streets full of music leaking from open windows. Lena carried the folded blanket. Daniel carried her jacket because she'd become too warm.
“We could do this every week,” she said.
“Not this exact thing.”
“You know what I mean.”
He glanced at her. “Maybe not every week. I'd like to go fishing with Pete next Saturday.”
Pete was the friend he'd helped Friday. A man she knew in passing, who owned a boat and talked about the engine more than the fish.
“What about us?”
“Today is us.”
Daniel took out his keys. She stood beside him with the blanket pressed against her stomach.
He found the wrong key first, then the right one. She could have helped; she watched him struggle with it instead.
“Lena.”
“What?”
He looked at her, then unlocked the door.
She followed him upstairs. Halfway up she caught the loose corner of the blanket before it dragged on the steps.
Upstairs, they put the blanket back on the sofa. Lena opened the window; Daniel put water on for tea. On the little shelf lay Nate's returned book. She moved it into the bedroom, not hiding it, only making room for the things they were actually using.
When Daniel called her back for tea, she went.