“This is how it’s gonna be now, huh?” Tristan teased. “We come to you, wherever you are, on your terms. What do we get in return for being the fun uncle and aunt that always show up?”
“An extra person that loves you?”
“Yeah, damn it, that’s pretty cool.”
They both turned in unison and began ogling the Airstream. For Wren’s part, as soon as she locked eyes with Charlie, it was all over. The sobs came, and they came hard, for both of them.
Wren practically lateraled Liam to Arthur and ran to her friend, devouring her in a hug.
“Fuck you for crying,” Charlie said.
“Fuck you for leaving,” Wren said. “You give me twoweeks’ notice before you leave me forever, like we’re working at IHOP or something?”
A small laugh.
“Couldn’t you at least stay until we get back?”
“I wish I could,” Charlie said.
“Is Tristan making you do this?” Wren whispered. “Just give me a signal and I’ll get rid of him.”
“He’s not making me do anything, I promise.”
“It’s just that we made a deal,” Wren said. “First one to leave Baltimore…”
“…gets a tattoo of the other’s face.”
“Don’t tell me you’re backing out,” Wren said.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
The two finally pulled away and locked eyes again. Charlie took a deep breath, as if preparing to make a confession of undying love.
“Wren, you’ve always been—”
“Buh-buh-buh. Do not. Don’t even think about it. There will be no eulogies today, OK? You’re moving, not dying.”
“Are you sure? It’s a killer speech.” Charlie wagged a little piece of paper in the air—the speech, evidently. It was a meaty piece of paper, folded over many times. Wren was tempted. Enticed, for sure. But no. Not today.
“Tell me at Christmas. You’re still visiting, right?”
Charlie nodded.
“And you should start looking at flights for my birthday, and Valentine’s Day, obviously.”
“And President’s Day,” Charlie said.
“Oh, yeah, we can’t spend President’s Day apart.”
“And National Ice Cream Day. And it’s probably best if we spend all of Women’s History Month together, just to be safe.”
“I think that covers all of our bases.”
“For Q1.”
Wren smiled. “Right.”
It was time to go, so she walked to the truck, where Arthur and Tristan were just finishing up the most ridiculously stiff man-hug she’d ever seen in her life, saying things likeSee ya, budandLater, man. Would it kill men to show a little real emotion?
