Save the Date(123)

“I hope it didn’t ruin Linnie’s wedding weekend.”

“Of course not.” The anger toward Danny I’d first felt last night reared up again. “And he shouldn’t have done it. He shouldn’t have asked you here if he really didn’t mean it. It’s just not fair to you and he shouldn’t . . .” I stopped and took a shaky breath.

“But it was probably easier,” Brooke said quietly, and I glanced over at her as I slowed for a yellow. “It was easier just to ask me than to have the hard conversation.”

“Still,” I said, shaking my head, feeling this new, unfamiliar anger toward my brother filling my chest. “He shouldn’t have—”

“He’s not a bad person,” Brooke interrupted, surprising me. “He’s not. He’s just a guy,” she said with a sad smile. “He’s just . . . human.”

I nodded, since this was the same revelation I’d come to last night—the one that really shouldn’t have been a revelation at all. But in the cold light of the morning, it was becoming clear to me just how wrong I’d been about so much. Danny, Jesse, my parents’ marriage, all of these were more complicated than I had believed—or wanted—them to be. Danny was his own, flawed person, as much as I might have wanted to keep him in one box and keep everything simple and neat. He was just more complicated than that. Life was more complicated than that.

“You know, when Danny told me that he was one of the Grants from the comic strip, I couldn’t believe it.”

“But—” I slowed for a stop sign, then sped up again. “I didn’t think you read it.” Brooke hadn’t said anything about the strip the whole weekend, not even when we were at the exhibit at the Pearce.

Brooke let out a soft laugh, then looked back at me. “Are you kidding?” she asked. She shook her head. “I read it all throughout my childhood, and even in college, I’d spend hours online, catching up on strips I’d missed. Reading all about this family who were always there for each other, all together in their perfect house. . . .” Her voice trailed off. “And then to get to meet you all this weekend—not only Danny’s family, but the Grants.”

“Sorry we didn’t live up to expectations.”

“It’s not that,” Brooke said, raising her eyebrows at me. “It was better, in a way. I got to see the real thing.”

“Are you going to make it?” I asked, as I pulled in front of the tiny stretch of terminals.

She glanced at the dashboard clock. “I think it’ll be okay.” I shifted the car into park and started to get out and help her, but Brooke waved me off. “I’m fine.” She got her bags out, closed the back door, and walked back over to the passenger-side window.

I lowered it, and she leaned forward slightly. “Thank you for the lift,” she said. She turned to walk away, but then came back again. “And whatever you decide about college—you need to actually make a decision. You’ll feel better when you do.”

“Hey,” I called, just as she was starting to turn away again. I knew I hadn’t asked her anything about herself this weekend, or bothered to find out the most basic things, which was now seeming like a huge missed opportunity, since I would probably never see her again. But there was one thing I wanted to know. “Brooke. What kind of doctor are you?”

She just looked at me, then smiled. “I’m a psychologist.” She held my eye for a moment longer, then gave me a nod. “Good luck to you, Charlie.” She turned and walked through the automatic doors into the airport, not once looking back.

I watched her until she disappeared into the terminal. Then I shifted the car into gear and headed to the donut shop.





CHAPTER 28


Or, If It Weren’t for You Meddling Kids . . .




* * *



WHEN I ARRIVED HOME, I tried to park in the driveway, but there was a truck parked at the very end, preventing this. So I’d looped around the cul-de-sac and come back around to park on the street—and as I did, I saw a hatchback stopped in front of the house. I got out of the car just as the hatchback pulled away—and Mike was standing there.

“Hey,” I called.

Mike looked over at me. “Hey.” I looked where the hatchback had gone and realized that it was Jesse who had dropped him off—and for the first time ever, I was happy I hadn’t seen him. “Why are you out and about?”

“Donut run,” I said, reaching into the backseat and pulling out the four pink bakery boxes.

“I can help,” Mike said, reaching for the top two.

“Do you just want first dibs on the tiger tails?”

Mike smiled. “You got me a tiger tail?”

“I got six of them. Whether or not you get one is up to you. So you stayed at Jesse’s again last night?”

“Yeah.” He reached into his pocket and held his hand out to me. “I think you left these there.”

I looked over and saw that he had my earrings in his palm—the ones, I now realized, I’d left on Jesse’s coffee table. “Oh,” I said, taking them with my free hand. “Right.” Mike was looking at me levelly, and I figured there was no point in even pretending anymore. “Was that when you found out? I wasn’t sure if you heard Siobhan on the phone. . . .”