“Not bad, but there was one really tough one. This guy just got a terminal diagnosis.”
“Cancer?”
Tommy nods. “It’s bad. So bad he’s thinking about not doing any treatment.”
“Does he have a family?”
Tommy nods again.
“Then he has to fight it,” I tell him. “For his family, if not for himself.”
“You really think so?” Tommy asks. He looks exhausted. I wish he would talk to me about these things more often. It can’t be healthy to try to carry so many people’s problems alone.
“Don’t you?”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to put his family through a long illness when it’s going to end all the same.” Tommy runs his hands over his head, smoothing hair that isn’t there anymore. “I’m honestly not sure. You weren’t there when my mom was sick. The treatment was worse than the breast cancer—three years of chemo and radiation and surgery, then more chemo and more radiation. She kept fighting past the point her life was worth fighting for, and in the end all that pain and suffering was for nothing.”
I reach out and take his hand in mine. I hate that I wasn’t there for him when he was losing his mom, almost as much as I hate that Monica was. If I had known, I’d like to think I would have come back sooner. So much happened in the twenty years I was gone, time we’ll never get back.
Picking up my fork again, I dredge a baby potato through the lemon butter sauce. “Our daughter is a pretty stellar chef.”
“She’s pretty great all around.” Tommy’s eyes light up the way they always do when he talks about CeCe. “She made a pretty good case over the dinner about going to that party this weekend.”
“Not that again.” I stab the last bite of fish.
“So that’s a no?”
“Not if the parents aren’t going to be there.” I drain the rest of my wine. “And by the way, thanks for making me the bad guy.”
“You know I’ve always had a thing for the bad girls,” Tommy says, smiling with his whole face. Those dimples still get me every time. His foot finds mine beneath the table. “What do you say we leave the dishes for tomorrow and go to bed early?”
“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” I agree, as he stands and walks around the table toward me.
He pulls me up and folds me into his arms, kissing me like we haven’t seen each other in days, not hours. Breathless, I step back and look at him looking at me with hungry eyes.
He keeps his hands on my waist as I lead the way upstairs, as if even a step apart would be too far.
Before I turn off the bedroom lights, I glance down at my phone. There’s a notification from Instagram that @Whistler Gurl liked my photo.
Chapter Four
CeCe
The music is so loud Sofia practically has to yell for me to hear. “I can’t believe we’re really here.”
I shrug as if it’s not a big deal, even though it’s the biggest deal—and the biggest lie I’ve ever told my dad.
“My fair Juliet!” Heads turn and it feels like there’s a spotlight on me as Liam slides off the kitchen island where he was perched above a group of girls. I almost died when Mrs. Katz announced that the two of us would be playing the leads in the spring play. “I didn’t think you were going to make it,” Liam says.
“I’m not officially here,” I say, grateful Sofia had the idea for me to spend the night at her house. It almost didn’t work since I’d already told Dad her parents were letting her go, but I covered it up by saying she didn’t want to go without me. I told him it was a best-friend thing and he actually bought it. One benefit of having a workaholic mom: if she were home, she would’ve seen right through my lie.
Liam gives me a hug and I breathe in the woodsy scent of his cologne. He shifts, leaving one arm draped heavily on my shoulder. “Want a beer?”
I hesitate, but Sofia answers for us both. “We’d love one.”
I’ve had a crush on Liam Donnelly for the last four years, from the moment I spotted him on the first day of middle school. As an eighth grader, he was up onstage at orientation with all the other club presidents, telling my entire class about the drama club. But it felt like he was just talking