The Rest of the Story(67)

“After that,” he said, “you just vanish, never to be seen again. Poof. You can see why I was confused.”

Like I was the ghost, I thought. “Did you think I was dead, too?”

“I was a kid, so it wasn’t that cut and dry. It was more . . .” He sat back again, thinking. “I wondered about you. But it had been a while. And then you show up, at the dock, and you’re Emma but really Saylor, and you don’t know me. . . .”

“I’m sorry,” I said instantly.

“Not your fault.” He turned to look at me. “Look, the point is . . . I’m glad you came this summer. To see you again.”

I stared back at him, feeling a tug in my chest. “I’m real now,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said, smiling. We were so close, I could see him breathing. “You are.”

It was perfect, that kind of moment when time just stops. Until my phone, in my pocket, buzzed suddenly. When I pulled it out, I had a text from Bailey.

Where are you? Come find me. It’s important.

Of course it was.

“Everything okay?” Roo asked.

“Think so.” I shut the book. “I should go. Thanks for letting me look at this.”

“You can take it, if you want,” he offered.

“Really?”

“Sure,” he said with a smile. “I know where to find you.”

Lake North, I thought. The Tides. Sighing, I stood up, pressing the book to my chest. “Thank you. Really. You have no idea . . .” I trailed off, not sure how to put this. “It means a lot.”

“No problem.” He stood up. “You want a ride? I’ve got the Yum truck. I can play the music.”

I shook my head. “Thanks. But I want to walk. Soak up the ambience while I can.”

“At this hour, it’s more likely to be mosquitoes.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“It’s your skin,” he said amiably, pulling out his keys. I stepped out on the porch, with him behind me. “But we’ll catch up later, right?”

He always said this, and I loved it. But later, like so much else, was now in shorter supply. I held the album closer to my chest, picturing us in all those bubbles. Magic. “Absolutely,” I told him. “We will.”

When I reached Mimi’s dock, it was early evening, some guests from the motel gathered on the swings, while others cooked something on a grill, the smell of charcoal in the air. Just another summer night, to be followed by another, and one more after that. By then, though, I’d be at the Tides, a vantage point from which all of this would look much different, because it was.

I walked up to the house, stepping around a rather rowdy-sounding game of cornhole—“YESSSSS!” someone yelled as I passed—on the way. Gordon was on the steps with her book, alone. She wasn’t reading, just holding it shut on her lap.

“Hey,” I called out as I approached. It was prime home-improvement viewing hour, so I was surprised to see her. “What’s going on?”

She looked up at me. “You’re leaving.”

I just stood there, not sure what to say. Finally I asked, “Who told you that?”

“Mimi,” she replied, reaching down to scratch a violently red bug bite on one knee. “She said your dad says he’s coming to get you.”

I wasn’t sure why I’d just assumed my dad would let me break this news by myself. Maybe because it was, well, mine? Clearly, though, he’d suspected I might not mention it, so calls had been made.

“It’s true.” I moved over to sit beside her. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

It wasn’t until she rubbed a fist over her eyes, then looked away from me, that I realized she was crying. And as I looked at her, so small in her pink shorts and T-shirt with a unicorn on it, glasses smudged, her beat-up Allies book in her lap, I felt like I might, too.

“Hey,” I said, reaching out for her, but she quickly moved, out of reach. “You’ll still see me. I’m only going to Lake North.”

“That’s the whole other side,” she said, and sniffled.

“It’s not that far.”

“It’s not here.”

She was right about that. I sat back, stretching out my legs, elbows on the step behind me. Inside, I could hear Mimi and Celeste talking, the TV on low behind them. “You know, I wasn’t even supposed to come this summer,” I told her finally. “I feel really lucky I got to meet you, and spend time with Bailey and Trinity and everyone else. It’s been great.”

“So you’re not sad you’re leaving?”

“Of course I am,” I replied, reaching out to her again. This time, she let me slide an arm over her shoulder. “But I’ll be back.”

“When?”

It occurred to me there was no real way to answer this question. But I had to try.

“I don’t know for sure,” I said. She slumped a bit. “But listen. It’s just like the Allies. There is always the rest of the story, right? Even if you don’t know right now what it is.”

She looked down at the book she was holding. “Twenty volumes in this series.”

“See? And that’s just a book!” I said. “In real life, the chapters go on forever. Or a long time, anyway.”