Page 59 of A Thousand Little Goodbyes

“English lit, huh?”

“I know. The first time I ever saw him—when I was a giddy, inexperienced fifteen, mind you—he was intently reading a copy of Dante’sInferno. Naturally, it was all downhill from there.”

“Naturally.” Walsh grinned in a way that not only encouraged Chrissie to keep going, but actually made herwantto. “If I could go back and give my teenaged self one piece of advice, it would be to start carrying around classic literature that I’m way too young to understand. That’s how you get all the really worthwhile chicks.”

Her heart gave a little hum at that word—worthwhile—but she didn’t allow herself to dwell on it. Nottoomuch, anyway.

“Yeah, well. Turns out that being well read and being a decent human don’t go hand in hand. Grimshaw has never been interested in any kind of relationship with Kat. I offer every couple of years—a quick email update on how she’s doing, an open line of communication so he knows he’s welcome to reach out, but he never does. He just says I’m doing a great job without him and he doesn’t want to do anything to upset that.”

Although she spoke lightly, each word came at a cost. The last time she’d emailed Grimshaw had been the time Scarlett threatened to have him taken out by a hit man. Not only had he offered his two lines of usual garbage—Nice to hear from you. Still not interested.—but he’d actually asked her to stop emailing altogether.

I’m seeing someone,he’d written.It’s serious. I can’t do right by her if you keep opening up this part of my past.

“Does Kat know you do that?” Walsh asked.

“Of course not. It would break her heart.” Chrissie fired the answer out like it came from a slingshot anchored to her rib cage. “I’ve gone back and forth about it inside my head a thousand different times, but I always end up in the same place. It’s better for her to think that her father is out there somewhere, missing her as much she misses him, than to know how little he cares. I spent my entire childhood living with parents who didn’t care, and it was torture.”

“So…you’re protecting her.” It wasn’t a question.

“Until the day I die.” It was definitely an answer.

On the screen, a calico blur jumped up onto Walsh’s lap. Rufus turned once, twice, three times, and then he did the unthinkable. He actually lay down and started purring as Walsh’s hand began to move up and down his spine.

It was as good a segue as any.

“Walsh, what on earth have you done to my cat? Is he…? Is that…? Good god, are those purrs I’m hearing?”

Walsh chuckled, but his expression didn’t lose any of the severity that had fallen over it when Chrissie started talking about Grimshaw. “He’s not such a bad cat. We’ve reached an understanding, he and I. But for what it’s worth, I think you’re wrong about Kat.”

“Walsh, please—”

He stopped petting the traitorous cat long enough to hold up a hand. “I know. I’m not her parent, and you’re more than capable ofhandling your daughter on your own terms. I’m just saying. Although I make it a point never to say anything bad about Lily’s mother, I am honest about why she left us—why she lefther. Kat’s reaction might surprise you.”

Chrissie very much doubted it. Kat was a mercurial creature, so tied to her emotions that they dictated their life together like an atomic clock keeping impeccable time in the background. Chrissie had survived her childhood by learning to cut her emotions off at the source. She very much doubted whether Kat was capable of the same.

Or that she’d be the same laughing, high-spirited girl afterward.

“I’ll bear your advice in mind, thanks.”

Walsh chuckled. “That’s the closest you’re going to get to telling me to mind my own business, isn’t it?”

Even that, a grain of discord lodging between them, seemed like nothing in the face of that smile. “While my mangy old cat is in your lap and my daughter is under your roof? Yes. I owe you too much already.”

“You don’t owe me a damn thing, Chrissie.” He leaned closer to the phone. Chrissie had never been a big fan of video chats, but she could almost smell his volleyball tape scent from here. “I just wish I could do more.”

Chrissie knew she shouldn’t ask. She’d already left Scarlett alone inside the café for too long, had made so many demands on Walsh’s time and energy that she was starting to feel like one of his athletes instead of his peer. But something about the way he spoke—as if he meant every word—loosened her tongue.

“Actually, are you near a computer right now?”

“No, but I can be.” He set aside the cat and moved to a desk set in one corner of the room. “What do you need?”

To put her actual needs into words would have taken the rest of the day—if not the whole week—so she focused on the one thing that was bothering her more than all the rest.

“This village in Vermont we’re going to… Would you google it real quick for me? I looked it up when Scarlett first started talking about the trip, but that was when I thought we were just going to be antiquing and taking in the sights. Now, however…” She let her voice trail off, hesitant to put her actual fear into words.

“What am I looking for?”

“I’m not sure. Anything unique about it. Especially if it’s related to medical stuff. Specifically cancer.”