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“Me, too.” His shoulder lifts with a shrug.
“You just said you have to set an alarm. I wake up without one.”
“You want a prize?” he snips, looking my way with a hint of humor in his voice.
“I’m just saying, it’s vacation. If I could sleep in, I would in a heartbeat. Why aren’t you sleeping in if you can?”
“I still have stuff to do for the store. Inventory, emails.”
I eye him, shocked. “You’re working? But…you have employees.”
“Yeah, well, I like to be hands-on with stuff. I guess I’m a bit of a control freak.”
I bite my tongue to keep from saying that I’ve noticed.
Memphis sinks down in the rocking chair next to me with a sigh, adjusting the flannel shirt he’s wearing. He’s quiet for a while before he says, “The store was important to my parents. And, now it’s mine.”
With just those words, I get it. “And you don’t want to fail.”
He looks away without a word.
“Is that why you didn’t hire me? Because I failed your test, and you think I’d manage to screw something up?”
He scowls. “Is that what you think?”
“I know the right answer to your question wasOf Mice and Men.”
“How could you know that?”
I stare at him without giving an answer, but he seems to get it anyway.
“Mary.” He rolls his eyes.
I nod. “How can you honestly expect anyone to know that? Just tell us you want us to recommend it, and we will.”
“It’s not about the book,” he says with a long sigh. “Not really. I just…I don’t know. Have you ever lost anyone?”
“Well, that’s a big question for six thirty in the morning.”
“Answer it.”
“I just went through a divorce, so I lost someone in that sense. Yeah. But, no, both of my parents and all four grandparents are still alive. I lost a great-aunt when I was younger, but I know it’s not the same.”
“I’m sorry about the divorce,” he says, his dark eyes dancing between mine. “I didn’t know.”
“Yeah, well, on the list of my accomplishments I like to brag about, it falls pretty low.”
The joke falls flat as he stares at me like something is sitting on the tip of his tongue, begging to be said. “Ever since I lost my parents, I look for pieces of them. Signs they’re still…I don’t know, with me or whatever. I ask the question because I think I’m waiting for the perfect person to give me the right answer…” He looks down, burying his face in his palm.
“To let you know your dad’s still here.” In a strange way, I guess it makes sense.
“It’s stupid, I fully realize that. But, some days, it’s all I have.”
“You have the store. That’s all the proof you need that they’re still with you.” Awkwardly, I lift my hand and place it on his shoulder.
He looks over at it as if I’ve burned him, then looks up at me, our eyes locking. For several seconds, nothing happens. We just stare at each other, breathing, existing. I can’t form rational thoughts. Can’t form any thoughts, really.
I don’t understand what’s happening.
