Mom turns to me. “I don’t ever want anything to happen to you, okay, baby?”

I fasten on a smile, willing away the tears and the memories. “I’ll do my best to live. And to live well.”

“It’s all you can do.” She reaches for her glass. “Let’s drink to moderation.”

“Amen,” we all say together.

When Leo clinks his glass to mine, his gaze lingers on me. “To living well.”

“To going after what you want,” I add, a strange little flutter in my chest.

“To chasing your dreams,” my mother adds. “And to finding them.”

She looks to Leo once more. “You’re a dream chaser. A go-getter. Have you found your dreams?”

I watch Leo, eager for his answer, searching for it in his expression. At times like this, he’s nearly impossible to read, even as I study the cut of his jaw, the darkness in his eyes.

“Most of them. Some slipped away though.”

He sounds so wistful and resigned that I want to dig in, ask him what slipped away, and comfort him. Instead, I say, “Then you make new dreams.”

Before the food arrives, Leo excuses himself for the men’s room. My mom tips her chin in his direction. “My, he is like a fine wine. Did he get better with age or what?”

“Mom, stop it.”

“I’m not allowed to say if a man is good-looking?”

“Are you making a play for Leo?”

She scoffs. “Please.”

“Are you?”

“I’m fifty years old, and I’m very happily enjoying my thirty-five-year-old boyfriend, thank you very much.”

“How is it that you have a thirty-five-year-old boyfriend?”

“Pilates.”

I laugh then look her over. She’s gorgeous and always has been. And she’s never flaunted it. “You’re ridiculously hot for any age.”

“That’s because I don’t believe there’s anything wrong with being fifty and sexy. You only live once. Make the most of it. Be beautiful. Be your best beautiful self.” She smooths her hand over her napkin. “But why were you so worried if I was making a play for Leo?” Her question drips with curiosity. “Are you making a play for him?”

It’s my turn to scoff. “Please.”

“It’s not out of the realm of possibility.”

“Tabitha.” I use her first name to make it clear I don’t want her to go there. I can’t go there because of the past, and I can’t go there because of the present.

“Seriously, Lulu. I always did like him, but I’m not merely talking about his looks. He has a good head on his shoulders.”

“He does.”

She taps her chin. “For a fleeting second at the table, he looked at you like . . .”

She trails off, but I pounce on her statement. “Like what?”

“Like you were . . .”

Again, she doesn’t finish. But she needs to finish. She must. I have to know how he looks at me. I’m wildly compelled, and I don’t even understand why. “You’re never at a loss for words. He looked at me like what?”

“Like there were years in his eyes.”

“You mean stars, right?”

“I know the saying about stars in their eyes. I meant years.”

The word burrows into my cells. Years.

There are years between us. A whole decade of friendship, challenges, sadness, and now, new hope in a new era of friendship. But I don’t think she means it that way. Trouble is, I don’t know what to make of how she means it. “That’s insane.”

“I know you’re friends, but I swear there was something there. I swear, Lulu.” She studies my face for a moment, humming. “And I saw how you looked at him too.”

“And how exactly did I look at him?” I challenge her.

“Like there’s something there that wasn’t there before.”

“Did you just go Beauty and the Beast on me?”

She laughs. “I suppose I did.”

I shake my head, like I can dismiss these crazy notions in a single gesture. My dismissal works as a shield too. “And you should know, it’ll never happen with him.”

She arches an eyebrow. “People say that, and then it happens.”

“Seriously, you need to just stop talking.” I stick out my tongue at her, deflecting. The ideas she’s presenting are . . . dangerous. “Because that’s not going to happen.”

The more I say it, the more it’ll stick with me.

“Your lips say one thing, but your eyes say another.”

Exasperated, I toss up my hands. “He’s good-looking. There’s that.”

“Who’s good-looking?”

My shoulders straighten, and my face feels like it turns every shade of red as Leo returns to his seat.