“This is the bravest thing you’ve ever done. I thought the marathon last year was amazing but this...”
Allen kissed his wife on the forehead, left his lips there, held her head.
Darcy pushed him off.
“I’ll run more marathons again. I’m never doing this again. Don’t remind me, I’ll cry later. Make sure chips and salsa are on the patio table where you know Aunt Jenny is gonna smoke.”
She smiled, looked at the living room full of blue and pink balloons.
There were bottles of champagne in ice buckets and it seemed tempting now, but Darcy grabbed a Vernors from the fridge.
The dining room table was packed with a beautiful spread of food and wine, probably too lavish. Autumn Bacchanal is what the caterer’s menu called it.
Don and Lucy from next door arrived first, Darcy thinking Don probably smelled the unopen champagne.
Then her parents.
Her throat constricted.
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