Page 60 of Mountain Summons

“There should be some open wine bottles on the table,” Jo added. “Please, help yourselves.”

“What do you prefer? Red or white? And what can we get you, Jo?”

Jo wrinkled her nose. “Sparkling water with lime, please. To convince myself I’m drinking something fun.”

Yvette poured a round—red for Jo and Lena, white for herself and Val. “You’ve clearly never been a bartender,” Lena observed, laughing as she eyed the deep pour.

“Why’s that?” Yvette asked, clinking their glasses together.

“You’re too generous. Most bars try to squeeze six glasses out of a bottle.”

“Fair enough,” Yvette said, laughing. “But we’re celebrating.”

“What are we celebrating?” Val asked, taking a sip of her wine.

“The fact that Hugo and I only have seven weeks left to meet our baby,” Jo said smoothly. Though she didn’t say it, Lena thought they might also be celebrating a crash that hadn’t claimed anybody’s life. These men and women all knew just how fragile life could be.

“Let me get the focaccia,” Yvette said, tugging on a bright green oven mitt. She opened the oven, and a blast of fragrant steam filled the kitchen. “I hope it doesn’t need to cool before we eat it.”

Jo shook her head. “That’s the great thing about it. It’s out of the oven and straight onto the plate.”

As Yvette cut the focaccia into uneven squares, the kitchen filled with that classic fresh-baked yeasty aroma and the rich, fruity smell of olive oil and rosemary. The kind of smell that made Lena’s stomach growl and her shoulders relax.

“Forget the salad,” she announced. “And forget whatever the men are cooking out there. This right here is dinner.”

Val bit into a piece and closed her eyes, humming contentedly. “I agree. This is heaven.”

“Glad you like it,” Jo said. “Please eat. I can’t be trusted alone with all these carbs.”

“By the way, where’s Isla?”

“She was working late tonight, doing tattoos for a joint bachelor and bachelorette party.”

“Wow. That’s … unique. Not a bad idea, though.”

“Honestly, kind of romantic,” Lena said. “In a very… permanent kind of way.”

The women all laughed as they sipped some more wine and snacked.

Lena glanced back at the window. The guys were still out there, laughter ghosting through the cold, but in here she felt somehow … anchored. Anchored and grateful for this moment. She didn’t have many friends. She’d lost touch with many of her high school and university friends, through her own fault mostly. Too much traveling for her job, and too little time spent staying in touch. But here, for the first time in a long while, Lena felt like she’d found real friends.

Tristan

“Brrrr, it’s cold,” Alex said, sliding his arms around Yvette.

She squealed, quickly escaping his grip. “You’re not going to use me as a hot water bottle. Not after choosing to stand out in the snow for an hour.”

“But look at what we brought in,” Alex argued, pointing at the large tray in Hugo’s hands. “We’re like the hunters of yore.”

“I’m not sure the hunters of yore picked up their meat in a grocery store.”

Hugo set the tray down on the long wooden table with a flourish. “We can agree to disagree … after we’ve eaten.” He popped the foil off the tray. “Chicken sausages and steak, cooked to perfection.” He used his fork to pick up one of the steaks. “This one’s well done, Jo. For you.”

Jo’s face lit up. “Thank you. Overcooked meat. It’s just one more reason I can’t wait for Rébé to get here.”

Alex sniffed the air. “What is that smell?”

“That’s probably you,” Yvette said, laughing. “You four smell like smoke and snow.”

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