I’m not surprised to find Jay waiting for me when I step out into the library, winded from running the long way down to beat me.
I flounce over to the sofa and plop down. “I will eat sandwiches.”
He flops into the armchair Professor Martinez always favors when he grazes before a board meeting. “What should we do with the rest of the day?”
It’s a Saturday, and we’ve decided to spend it here. We do that a lot because there’s something fun about being the only two people in a museum. During the week, six different people are in and out of the building all day, but until we officially open next February, Saturdays are silent here.
Unless Jay and I are playing a game of hide-and-seek for dinner-picking privileges.
I smile at him. “I’ll admit a turkey avocado sandwich sounds pretty good.”
He presses his hand to his heart. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m throwing you a bone because I’m too lazy to think of any more games.”
He chuckles at that. “Rummy with the Hathaways?”
“They went to visit their son in Springfield.” We have a standing invitation to drop by for a game of cards. “We could invite one of our couple friends over for charades.”
He shoots me a knowing glance. “You just want Matteo to come over so he’ll bring cannoli.”
Guilty.
We fall into a comfortable quiet, and I’m somewhere between a daydream and a pre-nap when Jay shoots straight up.
“Truth or dare,” he says.
“What?” I ask, laughing. That’s not one we’ve played before.
“It’s perfect with two people. I dare you,” he taunts.
“Fine, but I’m picking truth every time so I don’t have to get off the couch.”
“Works for me. I’ll go first.”
“Truth or dare,” I say.
“Dare.”
“Uhhh, slide down the banisters, all three stories.”
He groans.
“You have to do it,” I say, sitting up, now interested in watching this ridiculousness.
He pushes himself up from the chair. “Fine.”
I follow him out and wait as he climbs to the top floor, finding myself the perfect spot to watch him come down every level. He peeks over the top banister. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
He tries a few different approaches, finally deciding on the classicHome Alonemethod. I’m already grinning, watching how awkwardly he gets into position.
“Go!” I call.
He pushes off with his foot, but nothing happens.
“Go, you big chicken!”
