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Her gaze moved from me to the window. The million-dollar smile returned. She waved her hand energetically, so I looked to see who she was waving at.

Phil. Leaving the cemetery, his blue eyes locked on the two of us. He looked like he’d been run through a wringer. Thistle’s tail was wagging as he stared up at Phil. Poor dog. For a grim, he was incredibly friendly. What a shame Phil couldn’t see the spectral pooch. He and dogs got along famously.

I shot to my feet, nearly tipping the table in my haste to wave manically at my boyfriend. Phil raised a tentative hand before lightly jogging across the street. The odd chimes over the door clink-clanked as he entered, his hair damp, his baseball jersey soaked through with sweat.

“Hey,” he said sheepishly.

“Hey,” I answered, hurrying to grab a chair from a table by the counter and swing it around to ours. “You look thirsty.”

“Yeah, I am, but I’m not really in the right shape to sit down in a tea shop.”

“Wait right there!” Candy announced before leaping up to dart into a back room hidden by strings of beads, brass tidbits, and crystals.

We waited. Like two dumbstruck dodo birds staring at each other.

“I’m sorry,” we blurted out in unison and smiled awkwardly.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about, Arch,” he softly replied. I opened my mouth to counter when Candy reappeared with a tie-dyed tee.

“Here we go!” She hustled over to offer Phil the shirt. “It’s Cody’s. I borrow/stole it, but you can have it. It’s clean. I promise. I washed it just the other day.”

“Oh, thanks. I can give it back to him at practice tomorrow,” Phil said, taking the shirt and draping it over the back of the chair to unbutton his jersey. Candy and I were silent. Phil removing his shirt called for utter quietude combined with thanks to the gods of manly beauty. Granted, he had a compression shirt under it, so no bare skin was shown, but even so, the outline of his toned body was right there to ogle. Candy tore her eyes from the eight-pack under the synthetic fabric to give me a wink and a whispered “Lucky man” while Phil was tugging the clean shirt over his sweaty head. I nodded in agreement. I was a very lucky man.

“There, now you can sit and make goo-goo eyes at your boyfriend.” Candy pushed the extra chair back while I weakly protested. “You two need to talk. Sit. Phil, would you like something cold and refreshing to drink?”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll have what Arch is drinking. It’s a nice green.” Phil plopped down into the chair Candy had been sitting in with a huff.

“Peachy!” She skipped off, ponytail swaying. Phil frowned at her back before looking at me.

“I didn’t want peach. I wanted your avocado green whatever it is.” He sighed and dropped his arms onto the table. “Today is not my day.”

I reached around a small dish filled with different crystals to place both my hands on one of his thick forearms.

“I think she meant peachy keen to making you a drink like mine.”

“Oh, right. She does say that a lot.” The whir of the frother filled the shop as we smiled feeble smiles at each other. I gave his arm a squeeze, an apology on the tip of my tongue when Candy bounced over to deliver his drink. She’d looped two little pink hearts on a keychain on his straw.

“Those will help ease your broken hearts,” she explained, patted us both on the head, and disappeared into the back room. Phil removed one of the hearts and passed it to me. I lifted a hand from his arm, slid it onto my straw, and rushed to get back to all the contact I could get in public. A scratchy piano and drum beat floated by on scented, warm air.

“Did I break your heart?” Phil asked.

“No, no, I think I broke yours?”

He shook his head and lifted his drink to drain it down to almost half. I could see his brow furrowing as he worked through his thoughts while rehydrating.

“No, it’s not broken. It was just a little dinged up like the rear panel on my truck.” He lowered his glass to the table, his left arm still pinned to the table by my hands. “No, hey, don’t get that sad look. I overreacted. Big time.”

“Nope, you did not. You were fully righteous in your hurt and anger. I paused. I shouldn’t have paused. Not for a millisecond. Especially since I knew—”

“Arch, it’s a lot of money. Anyone would have paused.” I shook my head so hard my glasses nearly left my ears. He released his drink to tuck my specs back into place. “Truth. Anyone. Would. Have. Paused.”

“Not someone who loves you and knows the shit that your parents—”

“Arch, seriously, anyone would have paused. I mean, I would have too. I sort of did for a micro-millisecond because, damn, that is a lot of cash. So I’m not mad at you or anything. I was hurt, but I handled that shitty. I ran off. Which is not how couples should sort through things.”

“No, probably not, but you were in pain. So you escaped to work out your emotions. I get that.”

“Still, I bolted and left you to handle them. Were they pissed? I bet they were pissed.” He heaved a mighty sigh and finished his matcha.