Page 64 of The Plus-One List

“I’ve been taking those ashwagandha supplements every day, and I swear, it’s really helping with my stress levels,” Gretchen gushes.

“You’ll be amazed what it can do for your stamina during workouts too,” Kate says. “Check out our latest video, we just posted it last night …”

I see Madame Boularès and Mr. Bloom looking through a stack of records together. Mr. Bloom! I can’t believe he’s here.

“You do have a pretty good collection,” he’s saying. “But what about classical music?”

Over at the grill, Miriam is chatting with Sanvi.

“You’re going to love my steak,” she says. “The marinade is an old family recipe.”

“I’m vegan,” Sanvi says.

Miriam looks her up and down then shakes her head.

Suddenly, Gretchen catches sight of us.

“Eloise!” she shrieks. “You’re here!”

She rushes over to give me a hug, and I let her, because Gretchen is a really good hugger. Kate is right behind her, saying hi to Agustín then giving the Colonel some ear scritches, as Sanvi hurries over to scoop up Hazelnut.

“What’s going on?” Agustín asks, and I’m glad he did, because I’m dumbstruck.

“Well first of all,” Miriam says, waving her set of tongs, “we thought you two deserved a proper send-off for your big trip tomorrow. And Eloise, honey, we figured you’d be spiraling, and we wanted to remind you that you’re not alone. You’ve got the ninth floor community behind you, and those people at that wedding are gonna love you just as much as we do. Isn’t that right?”

Kate and Gretchen nod eagerly, Sanvi smiles, Mr. Bloom bobs his head nervously as Charleston lumbers over to investigate his shoes, and Madame Boularès swirls her wine in her glass.

“But of course, they will love you,” she says. “Unless they are idiots.”

Tears spring to my eyes with surprising ferocity. It feels like there’s a pebble stuck in my throat. Everyone is looking at me, but their gazes don’t feel sharp, or biting, or uncomfortable. And Agustín’s hand is so warm and strong in mine. Reminding me that I can take all the time I need to process this.

“Thank you,” I say in a shaky voice. I blink away the tears and take a breath. “Thank you,” I say again, my voice stronger. Mr. Bloom gives me a nervous smile. Miriam bustles back to the grill, Gretchen pours us wine, and Kate chatters excitedly about how much fun we’re going to have in Mexico. I fear she might be overestimating my capacity for fun, but I go with it.

We let the dogs roam freely, except Pip, who sits comfortably in Agustín’s arms. Sanvi starts to wax poetic about her and Kate’s wedding, three years ago, and Miriam talks about her husband with wistful tears in her eyes. I switch to water after my first glass of wine, because the last thing I need tomorrow is a hangover. We all sit down to eat, and Miriam puts a platter of steaks and homemade sausages in the center of the table, alongside bowls of leafy greens and veggies (from Sanvi), pasta salad (from Gretchen), and potatoes au gratin (from Madame Boularès).

The food is delicious, and even more so because it came from so many people that I know. People I care about. I never could have imagined four months ago how much my life would change. That I wouldn’t be actively avoiding my neighbors. That I would be comfortable sitting at a long table full of people, listening to them talk, and not feel a panic attack coming on. I hold Hazel on my lap and feed Charleston bits of sausage under the table and find I’m actually enjoying myself.

Once we’ve all eaten our fill, Miriam taps her fork on her glass and stands. “Now,” she says, smiling widely. “It’s time for the presents.”

Huh? Agustín looks just as confused as I do. His face is so expressive, he’s actually a great way to monitor if I’m overreacting to something.

“Oh, can we go first?” Kate says excitedly. Sanvi reaches down under her seat and pulls out two large pastel bags filled with cream-colored paper. She gets up and hands one to me and one to Agustín.

Inside, is the softest set of pale purple sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt, branded with the Herbal Pride logo. Agustín has a navy men’s set. I also find a sleep mask, an inflatable neck pillow, and a bottle of Herbal Pride melatonin gummies.

“For the flight,” Sanvi says warmly. “The melatonin will really help you relax.”

“Seriously,” Kate says. “I swear by them when I travel.”

“Wow,” I say, glancing at Agustín.

“Thanks,” he says sincerely, running his hand over the velvety fabric of his new sweatpants. “These are great.”

“We will go next,” Madame Boularès says imperiously, and I realize “we” means her and Mr. Bloom when he slides a box across the table toward me. I open it and find a USB drive. “Zis is a compilation of soothing music. Some of it is from my own collection.”

“And I recorded some songs for you,” Mr. Bloom says quietly. “Mostly Bach. A little Brahms. And some Mozart.”

I pick up the drive and grip it in my hand, my throat too swollen to speak. I give him a nod and he nods back.