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“What can I do to help?” Mac finally said. It was unclear whether he was offering to patch up my ailing heart or suggesting something more practical, like loading heavy boxes into the truck.
“Keep the Retreat running. That’s help enough.” Now that Huck and Willow were off to parts unknown, we needed someone here to keep things moving smoothly in their absence.
“Not a problem.” He eyed me over his mug as he took another sip. “Hey, uh… have you heard from PJ lately?”
“No. The asshole keeps blowing me off.” I frowned, feeling a pulse of unease. “Why?”
McLean bit the inside of his cheek, like he was deciding whether to speak. Probably deciding whether I could handle it, knowing how overloaded I was. “It’s probably nothing, but… last night was the new moon.”
“Okay?”
Mac fidgeted in his seat. “You remember Willow used to say that new moons were a time for wishes and dreams? I mean. I mean, I don’tactuallybelieve it,” he said softly, his eyes shining in a way that said he really did. “But a long time ago—like,years—PJ and I started doing this thing where we’d, you know, make our wishes for the month. Even after he moved away, he’d always, always call me on the new moon.”
“And last night, he didn’t.”
McLean nodded somberly, and my heart sank. Our entire family was protective of McLean, despite him being older than the twins. PJ wouldn’t have let him down unless something was really wrong.
I pulled out my phone and pulled up my messages. The text chain between PJ and me over the previous few weeks was full of garbage brush-offs.
Me:How’s the studio class going? Did you finish the piece?
Daydreamer:Yeah, great!
Me:Is the roommate situation working out okay?
Daydreamer:Absolutely!
Me:Hey! I’ve tried calling you several times this week. Where are you?
Daydreamer:Right here. Super busy. Everything’s fine!
Me:Tried calling again. Willow and Huck couldn’t get a hold of you either. They said to tell you bye and good luck with the semester.
Daydreamer:Cool. Thanks!
Me:Bro, wtf? Answer your phone.
Me:PJ, where are you? I feel like something’s wrong and you’re not telling us.
Daydreamer:Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s fine! Just busy.
Me:Too busy for a three-minute phone call? CALL ME DAMMIT.
Me:PJ?
Me:Bro.
Me:I’m working tonight, so if I don’t hear my cell, call the Tavern landline and make someone find me. Promise me you’ll call.
I rubbed my forehead and sighed tiredly, shifting the mental burdens on my shoulders to accommodate one more. “The last I heard from him was six days ago.”
McLean grimaced. “I dunno, Flynn. Maybe we should check on him. Just to be sure. We could ask Alden to go.”
“Of course we need to check on him. I probably should have done it a long time ago,” I admitted.Wouldhave if I hadn’t been so preoccupied with so many other damn things. “PJ won’t talk to Alden, though. He’ll give some bullshit excuse, and Alden will come back here saying PJ is fine… after stopping to squeeze in a Grindr hookup.”
McLean shrugged, acknowledging this. Alden was loyal and he was fierce, but he wasn’t warm or fuzzy. “Maybe we could send…” His voice trailed off, and I nodded in confirmation.
It had to be me.
