Mila felt slightly nervous when they arrived at her parents’ house to join the family for dinner. Before she opened the door, she turned to Hersch.
“Do we need a signal? If you’re really not having a good time, maybe we should have a word you can say so I’ll know to get you out of there.”
His eyebrows rose. “You mean like a safe word?”
Immediately, she thought of all the kinky sexual positions they could be in that would involve a safe word and shook her head. “No. Well, not exactly. But my family can be a little much en masse.”
He put an arm around her shoulders. “I think I’ll be okay.”
She realized that he wasn’t as nervous as she was. In fact, he didn’t seem nervous at all. He’d dressed in casual jeans and a relaxed white shirt, and he looked gorgeous. Moustache and all. She’d thrown on a black cotton dress and hoop earrings and let her hair hang loose down her back.
As she opened the door, she turned to look over her shoulder. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Tessa and Erin were in the main room with Crystal, unpacking wedding decorations. Hersch immediately went up to Tessa and said, “You need no introduction. Your painting of the Carmel cypresses is one of the things I love most about my new home.”
Tessa turned pink with pleasure.
As Crystal shook his hand, she shot a puzzled look at Mila. Then she said, quite seriously, “You know this wedding’s top secret, right? If word gets out—”
“You can trust Hersch, Crystal,” Mila said. Did she really think she’d invite someone into their family who would blow a secret wedding operation? And then it occurred to her that she’d trusted Hersch from the beginning. She wasn’t even sure she’d emphasized enough that this first wedding was a deep, dark secret, but she knew as well as she knew her own name that Hersch would never betray them to the media.
Herschel assured Crystal that he would keep the wedding in absolute confidence and was honored to be entrusted with such an important secret. That seemed to mollify Crystal, who said, “If anyone asks about the activity that’s been going on around here, Howie and Betsy are throwing a wedding anniversary party.” She went back to separating out the bows and balloons that had been delivered.
“Dad is loving the subterfuge,” Erin said with a grin. She greeted Hersch with a hug and went to get him a beer.
In the backyard, Mila’s brothers and dad were gathered around the fire pit. Each had a beer in hand, and the family resemblance was striking.
Betsy was setting the table. They’d pulled the picnic table and an extra fold-up patio table together, which they always did when there was a big crowd. Betsy was an old hand at catering for large numbers. She’d been doing it forever. She had a way of pulling together a dinner in no time and somehow making it work. She looked up when Mila called her name and put down the napkins she was folding to come forward.
Mila felt almost shy as she said, “Mom, I want you to meet Herschel Greenfield.”
Betsy shook his hand and gave him her beautiful smile, but Mila could see she was appraising him as well. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Herschel. You’re a man who needs no introduction. I remember how we were all glued to the TV during that terrifying rescue operation.” She put her other hand over the back of his so his hand was sandwiched between hers. “I’m so glad you’re with us today.”
There were so many ways to interpret that. Mila gave her mom credit for being both genuine and tactful.
“Thank you very much for having me, Mrs. Davenport,” Herschel said.
Her mom just patted his hand. “In this house, I’m either Mom or Betsy.”
He laughed. “I’ll choose Betsy.” And then, so softly Mila barely heard him, he said, “For now.”
Then she led him toward the clump of testosterone around the fire pit. The five Davenport men seemed to rock back on their heels and narrow their eyes at Herschel as though they’d planned to do it in sync. She swore that if one of them gave him a hard time, she’d plant her fist in his belly.
Then Howie came forward with his big hand outstretched. “How’s the painting going?”
“I’m very pleased. Your crew are doing a great job.”
Howie nodded, but she could tell he was proud of his work and his employees. “I told them to do an especially good job and do it quickly. Any friend of Mila’s always gets special treatment.”
Hersch said, “I think you’re a good family to know. Everyone in town seems to pull special favors when a Davenport’s involved.”
Howie chuckled at that. “We’ve lived here a long time. Have deep roots in the community. It helps.”
Hersch already knew Arch, and they clapped each other on the back like old friends. She watched as he met Finn and Damien, while Nick, her high-tech billionaire bro, sized him up. She was tempted to join the men to give Hersch support, until Mila felt a hand on her shoulder and found her mom leaning in. “Don’t look so worried. They’re not going to eat him.”
“I think I’m more nervous than he is,” she admitted. “We can be intimidating.”
Betsy chuckled. “We can, but let’s face it, Herschel Greenfield’s dealt with worse.”
Her dad was in his element. While the men, including Hersch, who had a beer in his hand just like the others, stood around, Howie piled things on the barbecue. In a loud voice, he said, “Who put tofu on my platter?”
Erin called, “I did, Dad. You shouldn’t eat so much meat.”
He made a rude noise, but added the tofu to the marinated chicken breasts and the hamburgers and the hot dogs that were grilling away.
* * *
Before long, they took their seats around the big tables to eat. Betsy sighed and said, “It’s so good to have all my children at home at the same time.”
In a booming voice, Finn called, “It’s not every day that you and Dad celebrate your wedding anniversary.” It was loud enough that every nosy neighbor in town could hear him.
Tessa had to cover her mouth to stop her giggles. Any nosy neighbor who’d bothered to peek over the fence might not have been fooled. The way she and Arch were looking at each other, hands held tight, spoke of a deep and abiding love—one that would take any couple down the aisle. Although, Mila had to admit, anybody looking at her mom and dad would reach the same conclusion. Maybe they’d been married for going on forty years, but Howie could never walk past Betsy without touching her on the shoulder or leaning down to kiss her cheek or whisper something private in her ear.
Mila had always believed she’d never find love like that, but there was Hersch sitting beside her, his knee pressed against hers under the table where no one else could see it. She felt a warmth and connection with him that surprised her.
When they’d finished dinner, Betsy said, “All I have for dessert is a big tub of ice cream.”
Mila said, “Actually, Mom, I think Herschel is taking care of dessert.”
They all turned to him as though expecting him to run inside and bring out a big bakery box. Instead, he said, “Who wants s’mores?”
There was a burst of delighted laughter. Nick even looked up from his phone, where he’d been texting somebody, to say, “I haven’t had s’mores in years. Is this for real?”
Herschel nodded in his serious way. “I consider it one of my culinary specialties. Who wants s’mores?” he repeated. Every hand around the table went up. He said, “If you don’t mind, Howie, I’ll use the rest of your hot dog skewers.”
“Be my guest,” Howie said, clearly enjoying himself.
Mila went to the kitchen and brought out the graham crackers, Hershey’s chocolate bars, and marshmallows. He quietly got to work with the intense concentration he seemed to apply to everything while the family gathered around to watch.
Normally, they all would have roasted their own marshmallows, but there was something about the way Hersch operated that made it more fun to watch. Erin was the first to speak. “When I roast a marshmallow, it always catches fire. But you have this amazing ability to just brown the outside without the marshmallow either catching fire or falling off the stick.”
Without shifting his attention, he said, “It’s a simple matter of physics and thermodynamics.”
It was such a funny line—about s’mores—and yet, no one laughed because he was actually serious.
He slipped the first perfect marshmallow off the stick and onto a graham cracker on top of part of a candy bar, then another marshmallow and another piece of chocolate. He topped it all off with a second graham cracker. With careful precision, he pressed the two crackers together, and like magic, the marshmallow began to ooze and the chocolate to melt.
To Betsy, he said, “May I offer you the first one?”
“I’d be honored,” she said, equally formally, and then as they all watched, Betsy bit into it. She literally moaned with delight. “Honestly, Herschel,” she said after she finished a mouthful, “this is the best s’more I’ve ever eaten in my life.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied. It didn’t seem to be the first time he’d received this very compliment. Tessa got the second s’more, and as full as Mila was from dinner, her mouth was watering by the time he passed her one. Soon, everyone was enjoying their dessert.
Finn had a smear of chocolate on his lip, and Tessa was licking marshmallow off her thumb when Archer asked, “Do they teach this in astronaut school? Because you’re the bomb at s’mores.”
“They do not. But like everything else, a decent s’more involves a healthy dose of science.”
No one was drunk, but there had been a few beers put away. Arch suddenly said, “Wait. If I’m going to play you in the biopic of your life, I need to shadow you. Herschel, you need to show me how to make a good s’more.”
Nick jumped up and yelled, “Screen test! Wait, let me get the camera.” He dashed into the house, no doubt to find the good old camcorder that the family had been using for years. All of them had smartphones that could have made a better recording, but there was something sentimental and nostalgic about that old camcorder. While he was gone, Mila realized there weren’t enough ingredients for everybody to get a second s’more, so she went back into the kitchen to get more supplies. Her mom followed her.
Betsy put on tea and coffee and said, “Honey, I’ve never seen you like this with a man. Herschel seems to fit right in with all of us. Do you think there’s a future there?”
Mila leaned against the fridge, her hands full of chocolate bars. “A few days ago, he was a maybe. But now, I get these visions of us. He’s inserting himself into my brain.”
Her mom nodded. Mila loved that Betsy didn’t put pressure on her kids. All she said was, “Thanks for telling me. You know I’m always here if you ever want to talk.”
“I know.”
They headed back out and handed Herschel the extra supplies. Then they all stood around, watching. Nick yelled, “Screen test for Herschel Greenfield and Archer Davenport.” Then he looked around at everyone. “What’s the title of the movie? Herschel Goes to Space…”
“And Comes Back,” Mila yelled.
Nick nodded. “Great title. Snappy. A blockbuster already. Okay. Herschel Goes to Space and Comes Back. Screen test with Archer Davenport. Take one.” And then he started the camcorder.
Herschel looked around as though they were all crazy, and then his gaze caught Mila’s, where she saw the twinkle of amusement. He played right along. Turning to the camera, he said, “Not everyone takes the sweet dessert treat known as a s’more seriously. But I urge you to do so. Using physics and the laws of thermodynamics, we can avoid such disasters as the flaming marshmallow that’s hard inside and charred on the outside, chocolate that’s brittle and doesn’t melt, and—perhaps saddest of all—the marshmallow that slips right off the skewer because it’s been overheated and the inside lacks the structural integrity to hold itself on the stick.”
Beside him, Archer was hamming it up like crazy. He was imitating every move, and then he called, “Cut.”
Everyone stared at him. “I’m a method actor. I can’t play you without a moustache.”
“Where are you going to get a moustache now?” Erin asked him.
Running into the house, he said, “I’m a resourceful actor. I’ll think of something.”
Deciding that something very exciting was going on, Buster bounded into the house with him, barking.
“Mom!” Arch yelled. “Where’s your knitting box?”
With a shake of her head, Betsy went inside, and within five minutes Archer returned. He might have the services of the finest hair and makeup people in the world at his disposal, but tonight, he walked out with pieces of black wool taped above his lip. When he talked, the bits of wool fluttered around his mouth.
It was the most ridiculous thing Mila had ever seen, but by some effort of will, she managed to keep a straight face as Archer strode up to stand beside Herschel and said, “Now I’m ready.”
Nick yelled, “Herschel Goes to Space and Comes Back. Take two.”
As Herschel made the s’more, he talked about the relatively low heat needed to break down the gelatin in the marshmallow so that the air pockets would expand, making it larger and softer as it warmed. Then he explained how the heat would break the bonds linking the fructose and glucose molecules to sugar, developing more nuanced flavors. Finally, he talked about something called the Maillard reaction, which apparently was a chemical process that happened when certain amino acids came up against each other, causing the outside of the marshmallow to brown and giving it its characteristic toasty flavor. It was hard to keep a straight face, especially when Archer insisted on making his own s’more.
Her brother pulled out every big word he knew, rolling the word thermodynamics around in his mouth as though it were a big wad of chewing gum. But at the end of it, he was able to present Herschel with a pretty good-looking s’more.
Very seriously, Herschel inspected it before biting into it, and then he said to Archer, “That’s not bad.”
Archer whipped round to face the camera and said, “It’s not rocket science.”
Now the pent-up laughter they’d all been holding in burst out. While Nick yelled, “And that’s a wrap,” Hersch and Arch were patting each other on the back, and Mila and Erin were doubled over with giggles.
Howie wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and said, “Somebody better make me another s’more. I’ve definitely burned off the calories from the first one.”
In the middle of the craziness and laughter, Mila felt slightly lightheaded at how well Herschel fit in with her family. Then Archer said, bits of black wool still flapping on his upper lip, “I guess the women melt all over you like this chocolate on a s’more.”
Hersch paused and turned to look right at Mila. “I only want one woman.”
Archer probably hadn’t caught the moment, because he was still studying his s’more. He said, “You know, if you ever wanted to give up the astronaut gig, you could open a stall at the farmers’ market.”
Tessa came up beside Mila and said gently, but with a tinge of excitement, “Arch and I were talking earlier. There’s plenty of room for Hersch at the wedding if you’d like to invite him.”
Mila stared at her. This was a huge deal. They’d worked so hard to keep the wedding small and private. “Are you sure?”
Tessa whispered, “Arch likes him. I like him. And he really fits in. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of Herschel Greenfield.”
She knew that Tessa had meant to make Mila feel better and perhaps to signal both her and Arch’s approval of Hersch as a potential… what? Boyfriend? Partner? Husband? The whole idea was freaking her out. Instead of feeling warm and fuzzy, she felt slightly panicked.
After tea and coffee and listening to Howie explain all the sneaky moves he’d pulled to get everything ready and brought into the house for the wedding without raising suspicion, Mila whispered to Hersch that they needed to get going.
They said their good-byes, and all the women hugged Hersch, and the men slapped him on the back. It was like he’d always been part of her family.
But oddly, her anxiety had begun to rise.
* * *
They walked the short distance to the car, and Herschel opened her door for her, always the gentleman. As they drove away, she said, “I think we should sleep at our own places tonight.”
He was clearly surprised as he turned to her. “Why?”
It would have been so easy to make an excuse—she was getting a headache, didn’t feel well, was tired—but she decided to be honest with him. He deserved the truth. “I’m kind of freaking out. It was scary how well you fit in with my family. All of them are begging for you to be The One for me. But you’ve made it perfectly clear that you’re not going to go down that road because your job is so dangerous and you don’t want to leave a family behind if something bad happens.” She paused a beat. “Has anything changed for you on that front?”
He was quiet for a long moment as he processed her question. She loved that he was measured and didn’t blurt out the first thought in his head.
“Something has changed, but it’s still scary for me.” He leaned over and put a hand on her knee. “You have nothing to be nervous about. I won’t push.” Then he grinned at her. “Like you don’t push me deeper and deeper into the water. Maybe that’s a metaphor for our relationship. Every time I go deeper into the waves, I fall for you a little harder.”
Oh, why did he have to do that? Why did he have to say the perfect thing? She knew exactly what he meant. That was how she felt, too—as though she was being pulled deeper and deeper, and the water was already over her head, and she wasn’t sure she could swim.
He pulled up in front of her little house and didn’t seem put out at all that she’d decided to sleep alone. She kissed him and said, “I’m sorry. I just need some time.”
“I understand,” He kissed her again, and waited in the car until she was safely inside before he drove away.
* * *
Herschel had trouble getting to sleep. In the short time they’d been together, he’d become accustomed to sleeping with his arms curled around Mila or her head on his chest or her legs tangled with his. Everything felt better when she was in his bed, and now he wondered how he’d ever slept before she’d come into his life. It was scary how quickly and how hard he’d fallen for this woman who was suddenly pulling away. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand her feelings, because he did. Weirdly, he just didn’t share them.
He’d always thought he didn’t have it in him to have a wife and family who might potentially be left behind with broken hearts. But as he considered his feelings for Mila, he wondered if he had been lying to himself all this time. Maybe what he was really scared of was that someone would break his heart.
And now here was a woman who was capable of doing just that. For once in his life, he just couldn’t see a clear path of action. There was no logic here, no science. He’d finally allowed himself to fall deeply in love with a woman, and she was the one saying it might not work.
It was quite an epiphany to have at thirty-five years old.
He put a hand on his chest, and his palm brushed the disk of gold. The Saint Christopher’s medal had gone to space with him and back again. He had traveled so far, never risking his heart. His life, sure, but never his heart. Now it was too late. His heart was gone. He hadn’t lost it—he’d given it away. Voluntarily.
What was he going to do if Mila discovered she didn’t love him the way he loved her?
He was still staring at the ceiling, pondering this question, when someone banged on his door.
A glance at the clock beside his bed told him that it was just after two a.m. He tried not to feel hopeful—maybe a neighbor had a broken water pipe or something—but still, he raced down the stairs to the front door. Taking a deep breath and steeling himself for disappointment, he opened it.
As he’d hoped against hope, Mila stood on his doorstep. He let out his breath. She was wearing sweatpants, a T-shirt, possibly no bra, and a pair of flip-flops.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said, gesturing at her clothes.
“Me either.” He opened the door wider. “I was waiting for you.” And he realized that was true.
Without another word, she walked into his arms. He closed the door, and they went straight to his bedroom. When they made love, it was so sweet and so intimate they didn’t need words. If two bodies could say I love you, theirs did, until they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
* * *
They woke up early the next morning. Well, Mila woke up early and jarred him from sleep as she jumped out of bed. He didn’t mind in the slightest. It had nearly killed him the night before when she’d wanted to sleep in separate houses. He was the most thankful man alive that she’d shown up in the middle of the night, wanting and needing to be with him, just like he’d wanted and needed her.
“There’s just time to go surfing before work,” she said brightly. “Then tonight, the girls will sleep over at Mom and Dad’s, including Tessa, and the boys will hang out with Arch. We’ll go to Mom and Dad’s in casual clothes and then dress up there.”
Hersch tried to stifle a yawn and wake up fully. “Wow, this is definitely a clandestine operation. Good thing I signed that nondisclosure agreement.”
“Very funny.” There was a pregnant pause, but she didn’t invite him to come, at least not to the wedding. But she did invite him to go surfing. He accepted, still nervous but confident that Mila would be by his side.
When they got to the beach, he realized that all the dread he usually felt had melted away. Mila was making this fun for him, and he followed her into the water with his boogie board. It was interesting that, even though both of them were still processing what it meant to be so serious about each other, it hadn’t ruined their budding friendship and respect for each other one bit. Maybe that was the foundation of a long-lasting relationship.
Swallowing down any residual fear, he managed to paddle his boogie board out. He could still touch the sand at the bottom, but now he was up to his shoulders in water. He couldn’t believe his progress.
Mila beamed at him and then said the words he was so longing to hear. “I am so proud of you.” She kissed him firmly on the mouth, her hand stroking the back of his neck. “You’re a superstar.”
He stared at her, realizing it was the greatest, most important compliment anyone had ever given him. Forget space and moon landings. Mila’s praise and Mila’s kisses were better than all the stars and the planets in the universe combined.
In a rush, as though she had to get the words out before she regretted them, she said, “I know it’s really late notice, but would you like to come to Arch and Tessa’s wedding with me?”
He knew how much it meant that she had invited him. “Luckily for you, I had my suit freshly dry-cleaned. Just in case.”