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“How’s that going to relax me?”

She gets her face closer to mine.

“Not everything is about you.”

I kiss her and she kisses me and we take our time about it. Finally, she pulls back.

She says, “There. Feel better?”

“I do.”

“You just needed your mind on something else for a minute.”

“You should be a psychiatrist.”

“I don’t think psychiatrists are allowed to kiss their patients.”

“Too bad for them.”

She bumps me with her shoulder.

“Come on. Let’s finish setting up.”

“Sounds good.”

“Also, you need to explain that shopping cart over there.”

I glance at it.

“I stole it from the store.”

“We could have used it to carry stuff in.”

“Yeah. I didn’t think of it.”

“I mean, it’s what carts are for.”

“Now you’re making me feel bad.”

“Why don’t we put it away somewhere?”

I push it into the bedroom and close the door.

“Good,” she says. “Now let’s finish getting everything ready.”

Once we have the food unpacked, laying it out goes pretty fast. We finish a little before eight and I pour us each a shot of bourbon. Janet asks what movies I got for the party.

“Con Air and His Girl Friday.”

She sips her drink and says, “His Girl Friday doesn’t have much of a score, but Con Air is fun. Songs like ‘Sweet Home Alabama’ and ‘A Summer Place.’ Trevor Rabin did the other music. Do you know him? He played in Yes for a while. Scored a couple of dozen movies at least.”

I shake my head.

“Never heard of the guy.”

“He’s a little mainstream for me, but he’s good at his job. That’s what I want to do someday. Score movies. Maybe have an orchestra play my music. I’m in a little band that plays live soundtracks for silent movies. You should come see us sometime.”

I look at her. Did we ever talk about this stuff? I don’t think so.