Gwen sized her son up and decided that he was definitely taller since that morning. It was getting out of hand, this growing thing. He allowed her to gather his tall, gangly teenage body into a hug and even wrapped his arms around her. He was almost fourteen and had not yet succumbed to the role of sullen teenager, something she was eternally grateful for. Gwen never would have imagined, when she adopted Luke all those years ago, that he’d grow into such an incredible kid.
“I saw your billboard while we were driving down Vine,” Luke called over Gwen’s shoulder before she finally released him. “It looks sick! Your name is on it and everything.”
Luke had always been vaguely supportive of Gwen’s career, but Ava’s new show found him obsessed. She supposed it was appropriate that her superhero fiancée was writing a show about a group of immigrant aliens who discovered their powers in a detention centre. It made even more sense that her adolescent son, whose biological mother was an alien refugee, would be excited about it.
Ava grinned and came around the kitchen island. “Aw, jealous! I haven’t seen it yet. I’ll make sure to fly past tonight.”
Gwen looked between them and felt an overwhelming tug of affection. It was a sort of blurry, hazy love that filtered her vision, a squishy, warm feeling that—Ava’s voice reached her through this love haze and effectively acted as a record scratch.
“…decided to do game night.”
Luke’s face fell in disappointment. “But I’m at Dad’s this weekend!”
Ava must have known this—they had Luke’s schedule stuck to the fridge. To her credit, she managed to sound disappointed. “I’m sorry, bud. I’ll make it up to you with an epic game of Forbidden Island. Loser clips Garbo’s claws.”
“Deal.” Luke seemed mollified and then started planning the birthday lunch they’d have once he returned from his father’s. “And then after, you, me and mom can have our own game night!”
Gwen sunk down onto the couch and sighed, wondering if there was a way to fireproof the curtains.
Nic finished off the last of her beer and watched her best friend save the world. Today, she was helping put out the fires on the 405. This time of year, the combination of dry heat and wind turned most of LA into kindling just waiting to burn. By the time Ava landed on Nic’s balcony, she had changed into her street clothes but still smelled like Nic’s childhood backyard on the Fourth of July.
“Take a load off, hero.” Nic tossed her a cold can of LaCroix, which Ava caught and downed in a second.
“Thanks.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “That was intense.”
“You got it contained though.” Nic pointed to the TV, where the local news was interviewing one of the families who had to be evacuated. “Could have been worse.”
“Could have been better.” Ava fell onto the couch beside Nic and exhaled an exhausted breath. “I should have been there sooner. I was in a meeting, and I thought I could get there faster than I did.”
“Oh, so it took you point-six seconds instead of point-two?” Nic flipped the channel to Netflix. “Don’t beat yourself up. You did good.” The burden of being a superhero’s confidante was providing constant validation…and snacks.
Ava pointed to the empty beer can. “Got another one of those?”
This was a weekly routine they both tried hard to maintain, especially since Ava moved out. Wednesday evenings after work were reserved for The Great British Baking Show. It was a night of beer and takeout from the Thai place across the street, and feet propped up on the coffee table while they commented on the choice of shortcrust pastry over choux and rolled their eyes at Paul Hollywood’s hate of everything matcha. It was one of the highlights of Nic’s week.
Soo-Mi, intrepid journalist and girlfriend extraordinaire, showed up halfway through the night. She came in through the door, a whirlwind of papers and boxes and a half-drunk cup of tea. Before they had met, Nic would have bet her life that she’d be the messy one in a relationship. And yet here they were. Soo-Mi and Nic had met when she had interviewed Nic for an article about women in STEM. They hit it off and were living together three months later. Nic was pretty sure that Ava would have relentlessly teased her about the U-Haul of it all if Ava hadn’t done the same with Gwen.
“Hey, babe! Hey, Ava!” Soo-Mi shuffled through to the living room before dumping everything on the kitchen table.
“Work okay?” Nic called over her shoulder, angling her cheek up for a kiss. Soo-Mi obliged.
“Same old.” She snatched a spring roll from the coffee table and munched on it. “Padma is going home.” She gestured to the screen. “Her profiteroles were pathetic.”
“They were…okay,” Ava tried lamely. “And anyway, after Henry’s pie, it’s anyone’s game.”
Soo-Mi made a sound of agreement. “I’ll leave you guys to it. Let me know if I was right.”
Another kiss for Nic, and she disappeared into her little office, taking her haul of paperwork with her.
She got that this was a Nic and Ava thing. She was good like that. Also, Ava really liked Soo-Mi, which was cool. Then again, Ava liked almost everybody. She was like the golden retriever of people.
“Padma is definitely leaving now.” Nic clucked her tongue in disappointment. “That extra layer of ganache was a terrible choice.”
“Speaking of terrible choices.” Ava turned to Nic with a sunny smile. “I wanna have a game night for my birthday.”
The words echoed in her head. Nic went through all the stages of grief before finally landing on begrudging acceptance. She fixed Ava with a hard stare. “It’s your 30th birthday. You’re the world’s most beloved superhero. You’re engaged to one of the most famous women on the planet, and instead of a Kanye-level party on a boat, you want to do game night?”
“Yes?”
Nic pointed to the window behind her. “You know the curtains have barely recovered.”
Ava laughed. “Look, we’ll have it at our place. Just you, me, Gwen, and Soo-Mi. It’ll be fun. I promise.”
Nic took a long sip of her beer. “I love you, girl. But do not make promises you can’t keep. Last time—”
“It won’t be like last time.”
“Last time,” Nic continued, trying very hard to sound casual about this whole thing, “your girlfriend called me a quixotic millennial, so…”
Ava cringed. “She went too far. I know. To be fair, that was after you called her walking white privilege.”
Nic shrugged without apology.
“I just… I want you guys to get along. You’re both my favorite people, and it sucks that you don’t like each other.”
“I don’t not like her, I…” Nic struggled to find the most diplomatic way of putting it. “I think we’re from different worlds, and—”
“Ha!” Ava pointed a finger at her. “You and I are literally from two different worlds, and we get along.”
Nic rolled her eyes, barely repressing her smile. Ava was a dork. “You know what I mean, Eisenberg. Your girl and me… We have nothing in common. But,” Nic continued as Ava’s face fell. “I will come to your dumb game night, even if I wish it was an 80’s themed pool party on Beyoncé’s boat.”