"Hey," he said.
She looked up, frosting on her thumb. "Hey."
"I keep thinking about the title of that day," he said. "If it were a story. The daughter running. The teacher talking. The list."
Simone's almond eyes held him. "What would you call the chapter we're in now."
Aaron considered. Outside, Lily shrieked with laughter at a game that involved water balloons and poor aim. "I'd call it the long appendix," he said. "The part after the climax where people either put the book down or find out what the characters are made of when the plot stops being loud."
Simone smiled, small and real. "Are we still interesting without the plot."
"You're interesting when you frost cupcakes like they owe you money," Aaron said. "I'm interesting when I pretend I know how to grill vegetables. Lily is interesting every hour she exists. The plot was a fire. We lived. That can be enough story for a while."
Simone crossed the kitchen and kissed him — brief, public enough that a child could have walked in, private enough to mean what it meant. "Then let's go outside before the water balloons find the grill."