It was New Year’s Eve, 1999. The Big Y2K scare was on and we defied the hysteria by throwing a dinner party for Jim’s relatives and some of our friends. At midnight those of us who were still standing, after all the food and beer and wine and other vices, stood out of the back lawn to watch the fireworks the town was setting off in celebration. It was cold, but not cold enough for a winter coat. The champagne had intensified the effects of the alcohol and I stood shivering and most likely swaying a little under the crab apple tree.
Nick was standing next to me, slightly apart from the group of twenty or so people who were all looking off toward town. They didn’t notice how he moved closer to me until he was behind me. I did. I remember leaning back into him and how warm he was and how good he smelled and how nice it was to have his arms wrapped around me. He was a good friend.
This was year 6 of my marriage to Dax.