but then Jean dragged his bowl to where Kevin could reach it. Jeremy watched as Jean showed Kevin how to shape the arepa dough around slices of fresh mozzarella. Kevin’s first attempt was messy but serviceable, but Jean took it away from him to press it into a cleaner shape. Kevin watched him work with a distant gaze.
Kevin studied Jean like he wasn’t quite sure who he was looking at: not with any trepidation, but quietly reevaluating a man he’d known for so many years.
Jean had to feel Jeremy’s pulse kick up beneath his thumb, but all he said was, “But I’d forgotten—I do not know them in English.”
“Fireworks,” Jeremy said.
“Fireworks,” Jean echoed. He tipped his head back to study the sky once more, and maybe Jeremy imagined his, “This is good, too.”
Between the delighted crowd and the fireworks, it was too loud for Jean to hear him. Jeremy rocked onto the balls of his feet to say at his ear, “I’m glad you came.”