Page 35 of The New Place

“Will this work?”

“I have no idea.”

“Better than anything I’ve come up with.” Pat slips the box into his jacket pocket. He hugs Abbot, slapping his back as if he were Ned. “Tell everyone I say hi, okay?”

“Good luck.”

“I don’t even need it. I’ve got chocolate from Sprüngli.”

Abbot tries to not visibly wince. “Sprüngli,” he corrects, emphasizing how short the first syllable is.

“Right. Sprüngli.”

“Close enough.”

“Hey.”

“It’s just that reading it makes it seem like it’s a ‘you’ sound, when it’s really more of⁠—”

“No, no, I just want to say it takes Ned seven to ten business days to process anything. Our dude does not move quickly.”

“What?”

“You coming down to Boston.”

“He said he was excited.”

“Of course he is. And next he’s going to be terrified. It’s Ned. If there’s one thing we have in common, it’s being absolutely and entirely calm about relationship shit.” Pat claps his arm. “I’m sweating. Is it hot out? No, it’s January. I might die. Sprüngli. Okay, bye.”

“Sprüngli,” Abbot calls after him. “Bye.”

Ned’s not panicking. He really was enthusiastic about the idea of Abbot moving closer. If he’s worried about anything, it’s the future of Adams.

Right?

He pushes that thought aside. His first dinner in a month at the Coppolas is waiting for him, and then an entire weekend with Ned.

10

ABBOT

The Christmas lights have been taken down when Abbot arrives, those white strings of little lights Abbot had helped meticulously put up in November under Dan’s exacting directions. Still, the house glows with warmth, the lamps turned on, the garage waiting open for him.

He parks behind Ned’s car and forgoes the front door like he used to, slipping instead between Dan’s and Cheryl’s cars and past Peggy’s bike to walk up the three stairs to the door to the kitchen. He opens it to the smell of dinner cooking and the sound of Baxter running toward him, tags jangling, nails clicking on the tile.

“Hello,” Abbot says, bending to pet him. Ned didn’t give him a bath apparently, because his coat is still a bit grimy, but Abbot scratches behind his ears anyway as Baxter’s tongue lolls and his feet slip as he tries to press even closer against his legs.

“Abbot!” Peggy shrieks, running into the kitchen on socked feet and sliding on the tiles.

“Hello to you too,” he says. She’s taller. Older, in just the month he’s been away.

“What’d ya bring me?” she asks before she even comes to a stop.

“Peggy, why don’t you try that again?” Ned asks, following behind her. “Hey, you.”

“Hi. Peggy, you still have your cape,” Abbot says.

“And it still needs to be washed too,” Ned says.