My mother nods. “Your father and I ate at The Franklin the other night. It was excellent. I had my doubts about that space, but Keira worked miracles.”

“I think Tucker Franklin deserves the credit there.”

“Ah, right. I’d forgotten about her boyfriend’s little construction business.”

Last I heard, Tucker’s crew was up to fifteen guys. Impressive, especially for a town of Fernwood’s size. My mom’s problem isn’t with the scale of his operation, but rather what part of town Tucker grew up in. My parents are snobs, plain and simple. They judge people based on how successful they are, and they measure said success from how much money they have.

“They’re engaged, Mom.”

“Oh, that’s right. When is the wedding?”

I smile at the waitress filling the water glasses on the table. “September.”

“You’ll be in the bridal party?” my mom questions.

I sip some ice water and nod. “She asked me to be her maid of honor.”

Keira, Juliet, and I made a pact in middle school. I would be Keira’s maid of honor. Keira will be Juliet’s maid—matron—of honor, and Juliet will be mine. Not that Juliet or I are close to getting married. Juliet has self-diagnosed herself as allergic to commitment. And I can’t picture myself getting engaged anytime soon, much to my mother’s dismay.

“How lovely.” There’s a wistful note to her voice that I’m sure has a lot to do with the lack of a diamond ring on my left hand. At my age, my mom was married and expecting me.

My phone begins buzzing on the table. My father clears his throat, glancing at the buzzing device pointedly.

“Sorry. I’ll just …” My voice trails off as I catch a glimpse of the name on the screen. “Sorry,” I repeat. “I have to take this.”

I stand and walk away from the table before either of my parents can say anything. There’s a cluster of more casual seating set away from most of the tables, wicker couches and armchairs meant for sipping cocktails, which I head for.

Nina has only ever called me once before, when she picked up an extra Saturday shift and had to move our monthly get-together. Aside from that, we communicate when I show up at the trailer.

My heart pounds, and my head spins, considering the reasons why she might be calling me. I don’t think I mentioned the exact date I was graduating. Even if I had, I can’t imagine Nina calling to congratulate me.

“Hello?” I answer, sinking down onto one of the striped cushions.

“Hi, Elle.”

I have a hard time reading Nina in person. Over the phone, it’s practically impossible to tell what she’s thinking.

“This is a surprise,” I say. “I wasn’t expecting to talk to you until next week.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I thought this might be the best time to reach you.”

“It’s a good time,” I tell her. “I just got back from walking Scout.”

That’s what I wish I were doing right now at least. The next couple of hours will be an uncomfortable balance of my dad discussing the bar exam and starting work at the firm while my mom drops hints about how soon I should be thinking about marriage. At least Prescott has met my parents before and has some idea what to expect.

“I’m glad you got that dog,” Nina tells me.

I smile. “Me too. I’ll bring him with me next week.”

Nina coughs. It rattles in her lungs, the sound ominous instead of ordinary. “That’s why I’m calling.”

“O … kay.” Nerves are crawling across my skin, confirming that something else is going on.

“I should have told you when you were here last month. But I …” She sighs. “It’s meant a lot, you coming by all these years. I hope you know that. I know I’m not always … well, I’m not sure I’ve ever said it.”

I shove, “I wanted to,” out through wooden lips, bracing for the blow that’s about to come. Certain that something is about to change irrevocably.

“I’m sick, Elle. Lung cancer. The doctors think I have a year left, if I’m lucky.”