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An alarm goes off. Jake stands up and pushes his chair back under the table. “Let me get that dinner I promised you.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Nothing.” He takes a large pot from the stove, takes it to the sink, and pours the contents into a colander. “I prepped ahead of time.”

He drops the contents of the colander back into the pot and takes it to the stove.

The cat moves and lies on his side right in front of me, purring away. “So, what’s for dinner?”

“Pasta primavera.”

“Oh, that’s one of my favorites.”

“I know. I asked Lynn. It’s also safe because Kojak never tries to steal any vegetables.”

The cat sniffs as if offended.

“It’s like he can understand what you’re saying.”

“Maybe he can. Can’t be much crazier than the stuff you do.” He stops. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t think you’re crazy.”

I know he didn’t. I like this. That he’s letting his guard down and talking without censoring his every word. “No offense taken, and no need to apologize. I know what you mean. I think animals know a lot more than what we give them credit for. We’re the ones who can’t understand them. Not the other way around.”

He stirs a pot on the stove. “Wish they could speak. Probably could solve a lot more crimes if they did.”

Jake picks up a large tray and adds plates and bowls. “I thought we could eat outside?”

“Sure, sounds good to me.”

I follow him through French doors into a beautiful, covered porch. It wraps around the entire back of the house. The wide blades of ceiling fans move lazily above. At one end of the porch, a hammock begs me to grab a book and lie on it. There are two sitting areas. One with a love seat and a couple of rocking chairs, and the other an outdoor tiki dining table that seats four. A candle flickers in the hurricane lamp set in the middle of the table. It’s already set with placemats, silverware, and wine glasses. A bottle of white wine chills in an ice bucket. A wall of rhododendrons lines the sides of the property. The pink blossoms scent the air. The yard slopes down into a lake. A huge tree occupies one side of the yard. Not a bare spot in the perfectly manicured lawn. This is the kind of backyard you see in the after picture of a garden makeover show.

“This is absolutely beautiful. I might park myself in that hammock and never leave.”

Jake sets the dishes on the table. Salad, pasta, and garlic bread make an appearance. “You’re welcome to stop by anytime. I don’t make enough use of the yard. I’d be happy to have someone else enjoy it.”

“I might just leave our place and spend the rest of my time here. Do you have a spare bedroom?”

“There are three of them.”

“That’s settled then.”

He pulls my chair out for me. This feels more and more like a date than just having dinner together.

“Thank you. Everything looks delicious.”

Jake taps his phone, and a song plays from hidden speakers, soft and unintrusive. We talk and share stories from childhood, high school, and college. The conversation flows easily like we’ve done this dozens of times.

Dinner is long finished, the plates moved to the side. The sun is setting over the lake, painting everything in yellow, orange, and pink. The water ripples like liquid gold.

I inhale deeply. “Thank you for inviting me here.” I gesture toward the lake. “This is absolutely beautiful. I’m jealous you get to see this sunset every day. That’s not a view I can get in New York with so many buildings all around.”

He smiles, his features soft and open. “You’re welcome to come over and enjoy the sunset anytime. I confess I don’t enjoy it as much as I should. Half of the time, I’m not home.”

I want to ask him if I’m also welcome to enjoy the sunup. But I don’t. What would it be like to wake up next to him? That old, bitter-sweet ache of longing for the man sitting across from me rises in my chest. I take a long drink of water and force it back down into the corners of my mind that dare dream of moments like this.

The first cords of “You and Me” by Lifehouse play over the speakers. “Oh, I love this song. Such pretty lyrics.”

He stands up and holds out his hand. I’m not sure what he’s doing, but I take his hand. He pulls me to my feet and takes both my hands, then walks backward down the steps and into the grass. He pulls me closer, embraces me, and we dance. My heart fills to the brim and then overflows. Something in my soul snaps into place, like a final puzzle piece finding its way home. My body melts into his, seeking to be closer still.