"This is what they saw," Patrick said, "the first people." He pointed across the valley.
"Do you want some wine?" She held up the bottle.
"Change of pace," he said. "Sure."
"Cabernet Sauvigon," she said with new authority. "Your basic meadow red."
The firelight cast shadows; the group seemed smaller and more vulnerable. "The first people . . . " Patrick repeated. They were the first people, now, she realized. She bit down on her lip. Her heart broke open like a swollen peach.
"There's a little bread left," she said. God, she was crying again.
"You cry a lot," he said.
"Oh, fuck you, Patrick." She poured herself more wine.
"I don't mind it," he said seriously.
"Look, do you want to go?" she asked.