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I place them in a binder with information I’ve gathered about the best florists and bands in a fifty-mile radius.
Will lets out a low whistle. “I didn’t realize you were planning thewholeparty.”
“Tessa doesn’t want anyone calling her phone and ruining the surprise.” No doubt she’s also thrilled that she’s found a way to keep me busy and distracted and directly in Will’s line of sight.
“She’s lucky to have you.”
I shrug. “We’re lucky to have each other.”
He looks past me, and I remember that he has a sibling too. Darren has been in the emergency room a handful of times over the past few years, though I haven’t seen him in a while. Hopefully that’s a good sign. “How’s Darren?”
“He’s ...” Will blinks. “No one ever asks me about Darren.”
“That doesn’t mean they shouldn’t.”
He considers me for a long moment. “He’s Darren, I guess. I haven’t seen him much since I’ve been back.”
Will’s quick glance away belies his indifference, and memories of Will and Darren swoop into the space between us. At the Fourth of July carnival shoving each other in line for cotton candy, at the town-wide Halloween parade dressed as zombie basketball players, at the Memorial Day barbecue in collared shirts splattered with condiments after a food fight gone wrong—or right. In each memory, they’re side by side, inseparable.
“Have you talked to Maeve about him? She has—”
“Teas. I know. For creativity. Anxiety. Not—” He exhales, and his entire body sags. “Not for what Darren has. He needs real support, and he has to want it.”
A useless “I’m sorry” pushes against the back of my teeth. “I should get going. Thanks for your help with the party.”
“Hope, can I ask you something?”
An intensity gathers in his expression, and I force myself to breathe normally. “Of course.”
Will glances down at the contract. “I was just wondering. About Maeve. Do you—” His gaze finds mine again. Conflict is etched into each furrow of his brow. “Do you believe she can ... all that medium stuff?”
“No.” My mind takes a beat too long to change gears. Later, I’ll have to examine what I thought he was going to ask me, and why I feel so disappointed that he didn’t ask it. “Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t have a great track record in this department.”
“But you’ll go back?”
I nod and think of the last afternoon I spent with Maeve, surrounded by bright colors and larger-than-life aromas. It felt like a reprieve from reality. “I’m helping her with the garden.”
“The garden?”
“She was struggling with the roses, and I love gardening.”
“Oh,” he says, as if he were expecting another answer.
“Not just the garden,” I admit. “She said some things about Brandon. She knew about a locket he gave me. It’s lost, but if I find it and bring it to her, she might ... I don’t know. Connect with Brandon? It’s worth a try, I guess.” My cheeks heat up.
Will’s silence makes me wish I could take back every pathetic word I just admitted.
“So ... if you find a locket lying around ...” My attempt to defuse the sudden seriousness makes the grooves in Will’s forehead deepen. Underneath that conflict, there’s something else.
“I’d like to help you look for the locket, if you’ll let me.”
16
WILL
When Hope leaves, I open Facebook. My heart punches out an anxious beat along my ribs as I scroll to the photo that prompted that impulsive offer.
I find it easily. Anyone with internet access and a Facebook account could.
