Page 101 of The Last Thing You Said

The Full Loon isn’t the ideal location for this conversation, but I can wait until the drive home.

I meet him in the driveway and he hugs me. “I wish you could have been there with me,” he says.

I step back out of his arms, thinking of the words Ben wrote in the Book of Quotes, and when we get in the car and Simon reaches for my hand, I pull away, pretending to look for something in my purse.

On the way into town, he talks about his grandfather, the funeral, and how his dad asked him to come back to St. Paul early and fill in at the hardware store until they can hire a full-timer.

“This is my last weekend here. I’m leaving Sunday night, and I won’t be back. Not for the rest of the summer, anyway.”

I don’t say anything. I bite my lip. I’m relieved, but I won’t take the easy way out. I have to be honest with him.

He must mistake my silence for sadness, because he says, “I know, babe, I’m going to miss you, too.”

My mom is still at the restaurant. It’s busy, but there are two stools at the counter. Simon orders a slice of coconut cream, his favorite.

“Nothing for you?” he asks.

I shake my head, but Patty brings me a cup of coffee anyway.

“Lucy, I wanted to talk to you about this fall. My dad’s asking how much I’ll be able to work at the store, and I told him that it would depend on you.”

“On me?”

He nudges me with his shoulder. “Yes, you. You know, if I’ll be driving up here on the weekends or if you’ll be coming down.”

My mouth goes dry. “Coming down?” I somehow say.

“Yeah, to St. Paul? To see me?”

“Oh.” It comes out like a sigh. “I, uh. I don’t have my license, you know. Or a car.”

Mom stops as she walks toward the kitchen, her hands filled with dishes she’s just cleared from a table. “Luce, I’m glad you’re here. We’ve got a tour bus coming through in about fifteen minutes—any chance you could help out?”

I’m relieved, so relieved.

“Sure,” I say. “I can stay as late as you need.”

She smiles. “That would be great. Thanks.” She disappears into the kitchen.

But Simon is frowning. “You’re going to work?”

“It won’t take long, I promise.”

“Lucy, I’m leaving Sunday night. For good.”

“I know.”

“I want to spend as much time with you as possible before then.”

“Simon—” I start, but I can’t do it here. Not at the Full Loon in front of all these people. I’ve got to stick with my plan. “Just wait for me, okay? I’ll throw on an apron when the bus gets here, and I’ll be done in half an hour.”

He shakes his head and pushes his plate away. “I can’t believe this,” he says. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“My mom needs me.”

“I need you, too. What’s more important, me or the restaurant?”

In that instant, I change my mind.