Joey recounted a particularly fun evening people watching in downtown Portland, sharing a blue cheese and pistachio ice cream cone, and then happening upon an arcade nestled between apartment complexes. They played skee-ball and drank beer until the owner kicked them out. The girl’s name was Maggie and their relationship never peaked beyond that night.

Dean talked about the process of re-dating his ex-wife and then surprising her with a trip to Vegas. Moved by the location and their bonds for each other, they were married a second time by some heavyset man in a knight suit in front a castle facade at the Excalibur Hotel. They laughed through the entire ceremony and then ran down the strip shouting to everyone that they were newlyweds.

“She died about a year later,” Dean added and he rubbed his eyes. “There’s nothing like a little perspective to make you realize who you love the most.”

Ethan watched everyone turn from grumpy naysayers to excited party planners, buoyed by their own memories of romance, and he couldn’t help but smile. Two things had unified them: getting their food back from Dean and now this date.

“I’m only doing this because I think Teddy will have fun,” Darla had said. “We’re cooking together. Understand that. It’s purely selfish.”

Doctor Krause, who had accepted that her wishes would be ignored no matter what, and Joey, helped Ethan into a change of clothes—Dean was needed to help tie his tie—and then they got him settled into the wheelchair; then the men grabbed the chair by its sides and lowered him to the backyard, where everyone had been hard at work. The Oregon weather cooperated with blue skies and a warm spring breeze. The cottonwood trees were shedding; large white cotton capsules drifted around the yard like snowfall.

“Hey, Ethan,” Dean said standing next to his generator. “She’s coming…you just give me the signal.”

Ethan nodded and spun his wheelchair to face the patio. The screen door bounced open and then shut; behind it he could make out Ainsley’s silhouette.

“I feel stupid,” Ainsley said from behind the door. “I didn’t go to prom for a reason. This seems like a huge effort for a fake date.”

“Just come out,” Ethan called and he kept his arms on his wheels. “Nobody is going to laugh at you.”

The screen door opened and Ainsley stepped out. She had slipped out of her regular outfit of jeans and t-shirt into a long striped cotton dress; it went past her feet and draped along the floor. Ethan didn’t recognize it as belonging to Lucy or his mom, so he guessed that Ainsley had raided someone else’s closet. She crossed her arms over her chest and smiled.

“Someone told me I should wear a dress,” she said as she started toward the steps.

Ethan nodded to Dean, and Dean yanked the cord to start the gasoline-powered generator. It started to hum and then the backyard lit up with strings of tiny white sparkling lights, which were layered back and forth across the yard. Ainsley’s eyes lit up and she pointed toward the burning bulbs.

“Thank you, generator,” she said. “Let there be light!”

“Have a seat,” Ethan instructed and he pointed to a white upholstered chair at the table. She sat and folded her hands in her lap. Ethan rolled over across from her and picked up a lighter, leaned over and lit a series of candles in the middle of the table. The flames danced and licked at the air.

“You should have been a producer on those dating shows that all my friends used to watch,” Ainsley said. “You’ve got a knack for ambiance.”

“New reality show. Post-apocalyptic dates. The end is just the beginning.” Ethan replied as he waved his hand over the tablescape; complete with cut flowers and fine china. With the entire neighborhood at their disposal, they had spared no expense. The empty houses were always the best ones to steal from—it still felt wrong to take something from somebody when their body was in the next room. Ethan hadn’t done any of the actual procuring, but he’d directed well from his wheelchair. And it gave him something to focus on, something to temporarily numb him from the increasing fogginess.

Ainsley picked at the corner of the tablecloth. “What about…Not if You Were The Last Man on Earth: When Dating Meets Doom.”

“That’s a good one,” Ethan said.

“Love is a Battlefield.”

“In our case, love is just a barren wasteland of dead bodies.”

“We really should have capitalized on this idea sooner,” Ainsley added.

They were interrupted by their waiter.

Darla had dressed Teddy in a cute white jacket and a black bowtie. He ambled up to the table and held his head up high. Then he spun and shouted back up to the porch, “What was I supposed to say?”

Ethan and Ainsley turned to see Darla and Doctor Krause standing in the shadows; the Christmas lights sprinkling them with dim light.

Teddy rushed back and Darla crouched down and whispered in his ear. Then the child scampered back and cleared his throat. “Good evening. I am your server. May I start you with a glass of juice?”

“Juice?” Ethan scoffed. He looked across to Ainsley, “I’m sorry. I heard good things about this place…I didn’t know it was a dry restaurant.”

“Doctor’s orders,” Doctor Krause called from the porch.

“Are we seriously going to have an audience all evening? I feel like I’m participating in dinner theater and I’m the entertainment,” Ainsley called to her mother with a withering look.

Doctor Krause put up her hands in surrender and disappeared back inside.

Teddy looked back and forth between Ainsley and Ethan. “Juice?” he asked again. And the duo nodded at him and he ran back up to Darla. “They want the juice, Mom!” Darla handed him two cups and he tiptoed back, watching the dark liquid closely, careful not to spill. They took their drinks and Teddy rushed back.

“I did it, Mom!” he screamed, with unbridled giddy excitement.

Ethan raised his juice and leaned forward. “To surviving. To doing things that feel normal. To fake dates and nights that make us forget that we have to start all over again in this world tomorrow morning.”

Ainsley cleared her throat, “To midget waiters.”

They toasted, clinking their glasses together.

“Tell me about your best date,” Ethan said as he sipped the juice. He swallowed it down, wishing it were something harder. He’d been inspired by everyone else’s stories and it seemed like a good icebreaker.

Ainsley stared at him. “A real date?”

“Yeah. Tell me I’m doing okay with this…”

“Sure, I mean,” she looked down and tapped her fingers against her glass. “I’ve never really…I had a boyfriend in high school. Do dates with him count?”

“Of course.”

“Glow in the dark mini-golf?”

“That was your best date?” Ethan asked.

“We toilet-papered his ex-girlfriend’s house once. That was fun,” she said with a sly smile.

“So, he was a romantic?” Ethan laughed.

Ainsley laughed; she tilted her head and flashed her wide-mouth, full of white, straight teeth. “He was fine. Nice. Attentive. Even our breakup was boring.” She took a sip of her juice. “I’ve wondered about him…where he was…when the virus hit.”

“New rule,” Ethan said, putting his glass down on the table. “No virus talk.”

“Even your toast—”

Ethan reached out and touched Ainsley’s wrist from across the table. “New rule.”

They watched as Teddy approached the table. “Your dinner is served,” he said and then he turned to Darla and beamed. Teddy ran back to his mom, who handed him white bowls, and the child delivered them, struggling to lift them to the table. Liquid splashed the tablecloth. Ethan bent down and sniffed at the red and brown mixture.

“Excuse me, waiter?” Ethan asked and Teddy stopped and smiled. “What are we having for dinner tonight?”

“MOM!” Teddy yelled to Darla. Then he lowered his voice to a loud whisper, “What are they eating?”