Page 149 of Come Break My Heart Again

“Positive.”

“All right. Thanks, man. I’ll see you tomorrow? We should leave by ten to catch the eleven-thirty ferry.”

I nod. “I’ll be ready.”

Keira left for Martha’s Vineyard yesterday. Tuck and I are going tomorrow. Then, everyone else is supposed to arrive Saturday.

“Great.” Tuck looks at Cormac. “Should’ve offered this sooner, but you’re welcome to come, too, James Jr., if you don’t mind hanging out with us old folk.”

I roll my eyes.

Cormac doesn’t quite manage to hide his grin as he tucks his hands into his pockets. “Can’t. I’ve got plans. But thanks.”

“He’s got a date,” I say, smiling.

“Oh, yeah? Nice going, Romeo.”

“Where did you take Keira on your first date?” I ask.

I missed most of their early story, busy wrapped up in my own shit or absent entirely.

Tuck smirks. “The pond. I cooked a bunch of stuff and brought it in a picnic basket. Then, we went and got ice cream.”

“She liked that?” Cormac asks dubiously.

“I’m marrying her, aren’t I? Total success story.”

I roll my eyes again.

Tuck’s phone rings. He pulls it out and glances at the screen. “I should take this. See you guys later. Thanks again, Ry.”

“No problem,” I respond.

“I should get going too,” Cormac says. “Told Mav I’d come over for a bit.”

“Sounds good,” I reply. “Glad you stopped by.”

“Yeah. Me too.” He glances around. “Really, bro, I’m impressed.”

I don’t deflect this time. I just swallow and say, “Thanks.”

It’s been a while since I did anything anyone was proud of. Since I felt like I deserved any pride.

“You should get Mom over here to see it.”

I nod. “Yeah, I will. I was just waiting … I will.”

I don’t know what I’m waiting for. She’s mentioned—usually at dinner, right when I get home—that she wants to come to the worksite. And I put her off every time, wanting it to be more when she sees it. Wanting there to be something ahead to look forward to. But if I wait too long, I’ll run out of time.

“Have fun waiting for tiles.” Cormac heads for the door.

“Cor … wait.” I walk toward him, pulling my wallet out of my pocket, then hold out a thick wad of twenties.

I’ve just been cashing my paychecks so far, putting off setting up bank accounts. Hank paid us under the table, and that was the only real job I had before now. And my expenses are practically nonexistent, living with my mom.

“No, Ry,” he says, looking at the cash. “I’m not taking your money.”

“Yeah, you are,” I reply, holding it closer. “I missed a lot of birthdays. Take it. Spend it this weekend, on whatever you want.”

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