Page 13 of Weekends with You

“Ah, he sounds like quite the mystery. You better get home and get yourself ready so you can try to figure it out.” Her eyes softened, as did the teasing, for both of which I was grateful.

“Not until we’re done here.”

“We are,” she said, admiring our work. “And I think we have been.” We both laughed. “Besides, I’m exhausted. I’m getting too old to be lugging these heavy arrangements around and bustling about on my feet all day. Let’s call it.” With that, I headed home to get October’s Warehouse Weekend underway.

Raja and I were flopped on her bed staring at our phones when Henry’s voice filled the flat, both announcing his arrival and requesting our presence downstairs. “Let’s get thisshow on the road,” he was yelling as we made our way downstairs.

“Miss me?” He beamed.

“Terribly,” Raja and I said in unison. Only one of us was exaggerating. It had only been a month, but his hair looked longer. It curled behind his ears in a way that made me wish I could run my fingers through it.

“All right, Hen,” Finn said, joining us. “What’s the craic this weekend, then?”

We all piled in around each other, perching on the edges of thrifted armchairs and leaning on the pillars.

“Everyone ready?” Henry spread his arms for the grand reveal. “Dim sum. Football. Jack the Ripper.”

“I’m having trouble connecting the dots,” Liv said. “Anyone else?”

Jan raised his hand. “We live in London, mate, isn’t Jack the Ripper like a tourist thing?”

“But isn’t the point of Warehouse Weekend to be ‘tourists in our own city’ or whatever?” Margot said.

“It’s about bloody time someone listened to me!” Raja said, but Margot hardly batted an eyelash.

“Margot’s right,” Henry said. “And Halloween is right around the corner, and it’s the perfect opportunity to take pictures of something other than musicians for once.”

“Aye, there it is,” Finn said.

“So it’s that new dim sum place in Stokey tonight, then, since tomorrow is supposed to be great weather, we’re off to Finsbury Park for a bit of football, then a Jack the Ripper tour at night.”

“Do we have to actually play football, or can we just have a kip in the grass?” Jan asked.

“Well, Jan, when we went to karaoke a few months ago on your weekend, was I allowed to simply sit in the booth?”

“Well played, you wanker. Football it is.”

“You know I love a seasonal Warehouse Weekend,” Raja said. “Well done, Hen. Sensible and fun. Let’s do it.”

“Atta girl, Raj. Thanks for the enthusiasm.”

“Focus, people,” Jan said. “Are we ready to roll? I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving.”

“And you’re always whining, Liv, but you don’t hear me moaning about it.”

Henry rallied the troops and shoved us out the door before Liv and Jan could really get into it. It was a quick tube ride to Stoke Newington, and we made it in time for a seven thirty reservation.

The restaurant was a trendy spot with only the lettersMWin a sleek black font above the doorway. Henry held the door while we filed in, so I slipped to the back of the line.

Inside, the lights were low and a running fountain welcomed us from beside the host stand.

“Good find,” I whispered.

“I know how to pick ’em,” he whispered back.

We followed the host to our table in the same order in which we’d arrived, leaving Henry and me sitting beside each other. I gave myself a silent round of applause for my tiny victory before diving into the menu.

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