Page 11 of Meet Me in the Blue

“And you’re still a smart ass. Welcome home, Luka. Hoping you’ll stick around long enough for Nat to guilt you into staying this time.”

“Tell Mrs. Whelan she doesn’t have to guilt me into anything, I think…” Rook shifted on his feet, and I caught his gaze, hoping he could steady me as I said, “I think I might stay. Just finished up an interview atThe Herald.”

“Is that so?” Roger stole a glance at his son.

“You’re staying?” Anticipation colored Rook’s voice, the warmth of it curled around my spine.

“I mean… yeah… maybe.”

“What about Los Angeles?”

I looked at Rook’s dad, at his serious fucking eyes, at Charity behind the counter pretending not to listen to our conversation, and wiped away the dampness forming on my forehead. “Um… want to grab lunch? We can talk more, maybenotin the middle of the lobby.”

Rook’s smile was apologetic, almost shy as he looked at his dad. “I was about to grab a sandwich with—”

“Go on, I can meet your mother for lunch. She’ll be thrilled. You boys need to catch up.” He practically shoved Rook in my direction, and I chuckled at his usual tenacity. Some things truly never changed. “And make sure to give your mom a hug from me and tell your dad I’ll see him Sunday.”

“I will. Thanks.”

“How is he?” Roger swallowed as he leaned down and whispered. Like if his question was too loud, he might not get the answer he wanted. Like the universe would hear his hope and take it all away.

“Today’s been a decent day,” I lied.

“Good… that’s good.”

I found it was easier to tell people what they wanted to hear. They wanted something to feel good about, to think their concern had some effect on the shit eating my dad from the inside out. But in reality, the truth was a poorly stacked house of cards, and I had no desire to be the one to knock it all down.

Rook appraised me, like he could tell I wasn’t telling the truth, like he knew me even though I wasn’t sure I knew myself anymore.

“I’m glad,” Roger said. “He deserves some good days.”

“He does.”

Rook shrugged out of his lab coat and swapped it out for his scarf and jacket from the nearby coat rack. “I’ll be back by one.”

Outside the wind whipped through my hair and nipped at my nose. The cold leaking through every seam of the jacket I’d gotten last winter on Melrose, reminding me I wasn’t in the city anymore. I’d returned to this place where the fog hugged the tops of the trees and hovered above the marina while the sun played hide and seek behind the cloud bank. It was otherworldly, the colors steeped in grays and blues and deep greens. A place where, regardless of the cold, the seagulls always squawked, swooping, and flying overhead. I was in a postcard, a picture I hadn’t ever been able to capture on my own. Except today was different. The town square was almost vacant, unlike the summer when people milled about the cobblestone sidewalks, popping into and out of the shops. It was quiet enough I could hear the waves, hear the rustling of the nearby trees as Rook and I headed south. Quiet enough I could hear the distance my absence had created between us.

“The Early Bird won’t be open,” Rook said, and I was glad it wasn’t quiet enough for him to hear my heart trip over itself.

The Early Bird Diner had always been our place. When we were in high school, we’d sometimes skip first period and eat our weight in pumpkin pancakes. It didn’t matter what time of year it was, they were always on the menu. But in the fall, people came from all over to try them and to take pictures of the nearby foliage, the fiery reds and oranges, the bright golds against the backdrop of evergreen. The larches, maples, and aspens were more of a tourist trap than the cute seaside town itself.

“They close at eleven… I remember,” I said, smiling up at him. “What about Two Trees? Are they still around?”

He finally looked at me again, the man I’d always known blossomed with tiny laugh lines around his eyes. “Yeah… Tricia’s niece is running the place now.”

“Where did Trish go?”

“Florida, she said her bones hurt too much in the winter.”

We both laughed and I wondered if he had the same picture in his head as I had in mine. Tricia with her wild gray hair and that perpetual streak of red lipstick on her teeth.

“Her niece is sweet, moved here last summer.”

I couldn’t help but notice the way his smile grew at the mention of her.

“Sweet, huh?”

“What? God, not like that. You’re just as bad as my parents. I don’t want to sleep with every girl I know.”

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