houses right now.”
Ty thanks him, then Mr. Dimitri excuses himself and walks away.
“I’m really sorry about your dad,” says Ty, his dark gaze roaming my face.
“I never got a chance to thank you for helping me,” I tell him. “I don’t know how I would’ve got through it if you hadn’t shown up.”
“I wish I could’ve done more.” He puts his hands into the pockets of his gray wool peacoat and clears his throat.
The silence between us stretches a few beats too long, making me feel self-conscious and shy. “So you’re staying in town?” I ask, just to have something to say.
He nods. “Yeah. I’m renting a place by the community college. Silver Lake Studio Apartments.”
“A day or a lifetime?” I say, reciting the corny line from the banner that hangs in front of the building.
He gives a short laugh. “Yeah, it’s a real classy place.” We both fall silent again, then Ty adds, “If I can do anything for you, let me know. Your mom, too.” He glances to where Addie, Sylvie, and Wyatt stand talking to Mr. Dimitri. Actually, Addie is the only one talking. Wyatt is staring at Ty and me and frowning.
“Addie’s not my mom,” I say, realizing Ty’s mistake. “She’s a neighbor.”
“Oh.” He tilts his head. “Hey, how’s your dog?”
“Cookie’s better. I’m bringing him home from the vet later today.”
He grins. “That’s great. I’ve been wondering about him.” Thunder rumbles far off in the distance. Ty shakes his head. “You guys have the craziest weather here. It snowed a few days ago, then it was sunny and warmer, and now it’s going to rain?”
I shrug. “In the spring it can change from one day to the next.”
“That’s what I’ve heard.” Ty looks up at an ominous gray cloud. “I guess I better go.”
“We probably all should,” I say, but I don’t want to tell him good-bye.
As if he reads my thoughts, Ty says hesitantly, “Maybe we could meet up sometime while I’m here. Have coffee or something?”
“I’d like that,” I tell him, a tiny thrill zinging through me when his face lights up.
“I’d give you my number if I had something to write with,” he says.
Sometime during the last thirty seconds, Wyatt wandered up behind Ty. He’s pretending to listen to Paula talk to some man I don’t recognize, but I know Wyatt. He’s eavesdropping on me. Thinking Paula might have a pen in her purse, I call to her and ask, and she pulls one out of the leather bag hanging over her shoulder. I give it to Ty.
He takes a scrap of paper from his pocket and scribbles his number onto it. As he hands it to me, our fingers touch and I almost can’t breathe.
“If you can get away, just let me know,” Ty says.
I nod, ashamed of what I’m feeling for this guy at my dad’s funeral. And then, without warning, I’m crying silently. Tears pour down my face.
Ty backs up a step, but I see understanding in his expression. “’Bye, Lily,” he murmurs. “Take care, okay?”
I nod, clutching the paper with his number on it, and watch him walk away.
Not a single drop of rain has fallen yet when Wyatt drives me into town in his rattling truck an hour later to pick up Cookie.
I’m glad to get away, just the two of us. I try to pretend it’s just another day, that we’re going into town to the hockey rink to shoot pucks on a Saturday morning, and Mom and Dad are at home together, her cooking something deliciously gooey in the kitchen and him out working in his shop.
I can almost believe it. But not quite.
We’re both silent as Wyatt turns onto the two-lane highway that runs through town. I lean my head back and stare out the window. Silver Lake sits in the shadow of the mountains. Red-roofed houses lie scattered haphazardly up the sides of the tree-studded slopes. I love the Gothic feel of the town, the familiar dark sweep of scrub oak, faded houses, and old stone buildings.
Soon, Wyatt exits the highway and makes his way along Silver Lake’s red-bricked streets. We stop at a light, and Wyatt clears his throat. His knee is bouncing up and down.
“Are you okay?” he asks almost warily.
“Would you please stop that?” I say, tensing up.
Wyatt flinches. “What did I do?”
“Stop being so weird around me.”
“I’m sorry. I just—I don’t know what to say, I guess. You know. To help you. To make things better.”
“You can’t make this better,