It’s a Sonoma kind of day up here in Sebastopol, as we’re up here for Jessica’s dad Steve’s birthday. I’m in charge of the pizza, and Jessica and her mom Terri are making a certain type of chocolate mousse cake where they don’t tell you what to do with the egg whites after you’ve beaten them into hard peaks. They figured it out, though. Don’t worry.
When we arrived, Steve asked us how the engagement was going. “All right!” I exclaimed, and Jessica exclaimed something similar, and then she high-fived me.
“Do you guys, um, high-five a lot?” Terri asked.
“No, that’s the first time,” I said.
“Yeah,” Jessica responded, glaring at me with her sapphire-blue eyes, “but we’re gonna start doing that all the time. Isn’t that right Bret???”