He closed the door, turned to Avery. “Nobody’s passed out anywhere, right? That was the last of the last?” Signaling to wait, she peeked out the window and watched taillights blink up the lane. “And so we say good night to the last designated driver and his haul. I think we’re clear. Whew,” she added as she stepped back from the window. “The earmark of a good party is people don’t want to leave. It’s also the downside of a good party.” “Then we can safely say, good party. Planned and executed in just over a week.” “Don’t think one time makes you Mr. Spontaneity, but well done.” “You made most of the food.” “True.” She reached around, patted herself on the back. “So. Do you want to have some coffee—there’s some fresh left—and have the post-party analysis?” “Yeah. Over breakfast.”
