Good for You: A Novel (31)

SIXTEEN


The following morning, a mug of hot coffee waited for her on the counter. Wyatt had left two keys beside it, and a note scrawled with what she now recognized as his handwriting. Changed the locks, he’d written. Don’t tell Cindy.

She smiled for a second, only to remember that he was helping because he thought he had to. Even the coffee was probably an obligation. If Luke had told Wyatt about their childhood, then he’d probably shared how he’d been the one to care for Aly: stashing Band-Aids beneath his bed so he’d have them to put on her cuts and scrapes after she fell. Making inventive snacks for her out of the scant contents of their fridge and cupboards. Hiding her when they heard the door slam or angry footsteps in the hall. She hadn’t realized it until she was nearly out of elementary school, but Luke routinely provoked their father so he would redirect his anger at him, rather than at Aly. He’d saved her life, maybe even literally, more times than she could count.

Yet in the end, karma had proved itself to be a cosmic joke, because no one had saved his.

No wonder Wyatt was being nice to her. He felt sorry for her. Whether she sold the house or not, she really did need to get out of here before she started feeling sorry for herself, too. After all, moods are contagious.

Aly took the keys but left the coffee, then got into her car and drove downtown.

There was a charming café a block from the water that she’d been meaning to try. It was still early so she parked across the street and ambled over. There was a line out the door, but this time Aly didn’t scroll her phone or check her text messages as she waited. For once, she didn’t want to distract herself from her sadness. Her brother wasn’t here and that was unfair and awful, and she was not going to pretend otherwise. She stood there, feeling miserable but not caring if anyone thought she had resting beach face or noticed that she kept wiping the corners of her eyes. Until she got back to New York, she would stop worrying about looking normal and just . . . be.

She’d just ordered a latte and a muffin when she spotted a tall, scruffy man hunched over a laptop at one of the small tables on the other side of the café. For someone who’d probably attended the best prep school, Wyatt had awful posture. She hid behind a post while she waited for her order, silently observing him. What was he even doing? She’d never seen him on a computer before, and she couldn’t help but watch with amusement as he laboriously typed using the hunt-and-peck method. Serves him right for dictating missives to a secretary for years, she thought, but then she remembered what he’d said about banking. He was lucky that he could just up and quit without having to worry about where his next rent check would come from. Still, she felt sort of bad for him. For all its faults, she loved publishing and couldn’t imagine doing something she despised. In fact, she’d told Luke that very thing. And now that he was gone just two years after he’d ditched his soul-sucking career, she felt doubly convinced that no job, no matter how wealthy it made you, was worth wasting your life on.

The barista was approaching the counter with her muffin and her drink, so she rushed over to retrieve them before he could call out her name. Then she carefully tiptoed behind Wyatt, leaned down, and whispered, “Boo!”

She laughed when he nearly fell off his chair.

“You’re lucky it’s you,” he growled, but now he was laughing, too. “I deserved that, huh?”

“My little shower surprise was probably worth several of your sneak attacks. But yeah, you had it coming.” As she heard herself, she realized her dark mood had disappeared. But she was supposed to be avoiding him so he wouldn’t take pity on her!

And yet.

“What are you up to?” she asked.

“Working,” he said, but he’d just closed his laptop.

“I can go,” she volunteered, as he obviously didn’t want to tell her what he was working on. “I was planning to grab a quick bite and head over to Oval Beach. I’m only here a few more days, and I figured I should see it before I take off.”

“You’re leaving?” he said, frowning.

“Well, yeah.” Though the days had seemed to drag on forever, the past week had somehow flown by. “That was always the plan.”

“The plan,” he repeated. “Always with the plan.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she said, mirroring his frown. “How else am I supposed to get my job back?”

“I thought you said you had the whole month off work.”

“I do, but I still need to get back to the city. I have to buy a laptop.”

“Definitely can’t do that in Michigan. Or, you know—on the internet,” he deadpanned.

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. But I still need to find a place to live and hopefully get my boss to meet with me, so I can show him that I’ve used my time away to think about how to improve the magazine.” Her confidence rang hollow. Where would she even tell her taxi driver to go after she arrived at the airport? She could get a hotel room while she searched for a new apartment, but this seemed like a wasteful way to spend the money Luke had left her. Perhaps she could ask Seth if she could crash at his place for a few nights—a week, max. Aside from the suitcase she’d taken to Michigan, her few belongings were still at his apartment, and it would be a good opportunity to pack everything up, and maybe get closure with Seth; although she didn’t regret having broken up with him, she did feel bad about the way it had played out. After three years together, didn’t they owe each other a proper goodbye?