Page 56 of Same Time Next Summer

Gracie moans. “School starts Tuesday. Two more days at the beach and then it’s over.”

“Ugh,” I say, and everyone looks at me for an explanation. “It’s just that I’m on this mind-numbing assignment where I’m trapped in my cubicle all day making charts that prove there’s really nothing we can do to improve the client’s situation.”

“That sounds like hell,” my dad says.

“Your life is my worst nightmare,” says Travis, gesturing with an ear of corn.

“Maybe you can use your extra brainpower to focus onthe wedding,” says Hugh. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for you to have a little extra time over the next month.”

“True,” says my mom.

Wyatt’s quiet, and he won’t meet my eye. He asks my mom, “Is there a lot to do?”

She laughs. “To put a wedding together in eight weeks? I’d say.”

“I swear I’ll actually go to the florist tomorrow,” I say.

Wyatt still won’t look at me. My mom says, “And we’re going to have to get these invitations in the mail next week. Maybe you can come over Tuesday night and we can get them all assembled and stamped.”

“I like the painted ones,” says Gracie. “I think we should glue little shells to the bottom corner.”

“And maybe even a little sand,” my mom says.

“Mom,” I say.

“I know, sorry. I can’t help myself,” my mom says. She pours everyone some more wine.

Gracie gets up from the table and runs inside to get a few of the painted invitations to pass around. I get one with a pale yellow swoosh of color and I finger the corner where there really should be seashells. I pass it across the table to Wyatt.

He takes the card from me and holds it with both hands. He runs his thumb along the yellow, over our names. I’m trying to read his face, because in a way he seems surprised, like maybe he didn’t expect Jack’s and my names to be there. I want him to look up at me, but he’s just staring at that card.

Gracie says, “What do you think? Better with the color, right?”

He says, “Much.”

“I’m telling you Jack would never go for it,” I say. “So don’t get too attached.”

Wyatt finally meets my eye and shakes his head. He gets up from the table and answers his phone, which I did not hear ring. When he’s back, he doesn’t look right.

“I have to get going. Like back to LA,” he says.

“Did something happen?” my mom asks.

“Yes. It’s fine, but Missy’s on a tighter deadline than we thought to record her new album.” Wyatt looks at me, and then at my engagement ring. I haven’t noticed him do that before. “Anyway, I’m going to see about a flight and all that. Thank you for dinner.” Everyone is on their feet to say goodbye. He hugs Gracie and tells her to knock their socks off in eighth grade. He hugs Hugh and then Travis.

My dad hugs him too. “Well, son, now that we know you’re rich and famous, we’re going to have to come see you in California. Maybe do a little Rollerblading.”

“Oh, God help us,” says my mom.

“That would be great. Michael would love that too.”

He turns to me and I grab both of his hands. “I wish you were staying,” I say. “This really feels like the last night of summer now, and I hate the last night of summer.”

“I know,” he says. “See you, Sam.” He walks down the porch steps into the dunes, and everyone sits back down and carries on with their conversations. This isn’t right. Hours ago we were laughing and tasting cake. Hours ago there was no space between us.

I’m on my feet and running down the steps to the dunes. I have not thought through how my family is going to perceive this, but I don’t really care. I can’t let Wyatt leave this way.

I catch up to him as he’s about to walk through the sliding glass door into his house.

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