“That’s what I thought.”
“I’m going to New York,” I said.
“You’re going to New York? For what? With who?” Mom asked.
“This is huge, okay?” I said, sitting down at the table. “I have something huge to tell you.”
“Oh no,” Mom said.
“What?” I asked.
“I don’t know. It seems like nothing good ever follows ‘I have something huge to tell you’ on a Saturday morning at eight o’clock.”
“Well, this is good. This is huge.” I put my hand on the laptop. “It’s another Alvin Hatter book.”
Mom’s mouth fell open slightly, and Dad looked like he hadn’t heard me.
“No,” he said.
“Yeah. She wrote another book, and she wants me to bring it to her agent.”
“Holy crap,” Mom said.
“And it’s good. I read it.”
Dad looked dazed, but like he was slowly getting it. I watched as an enormous grin spread across his face. He laughed and said, “I knew it! I knewAlvin Hatter and the Return of the Overcoat Mancouldn’t be the last of the story! This is amazing! This is great! When do we get to read it?”
“It’s all here,” I said, patting the laptop. “Enjoy.”
I got up from the table and kissed them both, then filled a Thermos with coffee and drank it while I drove, the windows down and the music loud and happy and warm.
Sam and I had agreed to meet at the train station in Mystic at nine thirty. That way we could take the train into the city and not have to worry about driving and traffic in Manhattan.
He was already there when I pulled into the parking lot,sitting on a bench and drinking a coffee. He waved when he saw me and walked over to meet me.
“So what’s this all about?” he asked as I stepped out of the car.
“You’re not going to believe it,” I said. “She wrote another Hatter book! It’s going to be published! We’re taking it to her agent right now.”
Sam leaned against my car. “Wow.”
“I know, right?”
“I always knew there had to be something! That ending—standing in front of their grandfather’s house, I mean, that couldn’t be the end for them. Wait—did you read it? Tell me they find their parents! Tell me they finally defeat the Overcoat Man! You have to tell me!”
Sam was like a little kid, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet and tugging the bottom of my shirt.
“I will tell you no such thing,” I said, pushing past him and heading to the booth to buy my ticket.
“Wait!” he said. I turned around. He was holding two tickets. “I’ll give this to you if you tell me what happens.”
“I can’t tell you what happens. It would be dishonest.”
“Did she tell you not to tell anybody?”
“No, but... I just know I can’t tell you. It has to be a secret. I don’t know if I can trust you yet.”
He looked legitimately devastated, but he handed me my ticket anyway. “Here,” he mumbled.
