Page 83 of You'll Be the Death of Me

“He was a great guy,” Jason said. “I remember him being an amazing teacher, mentor, and friend. We wanted to stop by and pay our condolences.”

“Sorry for your loss,” Dell said. “I really wish I could have had the chance to meet him.”

Mrs. Lewis considered for half a beat. Her face split into a soft smile. “Well, you came all this way; why don’t you come in for some tea and talk?”

“We would love that, if it’s not an imposition,” Jason said.

Dell nodded along.

Cole was still on the floor with Chaucer, who was now sitting still, aside from his tail swishing back and forth, and enjoying having his head petted.

“Not at all,” Mrs. Lewis said. “My husband is out back watering his tomatoes, but he’ll come in. David!” she called down the hall. “There are friends of Cole’s here!”

Dell let Jason lead the way and lingered back under the guise of petting the dog but really using it as excuse to talk to Cole. “Do you remember him? Clearly, he remembers you,” she said with a smile, and scrubbed Chaucer’s ears. “And clearly I was right about you naming beloved things after literary heroes.”

Cole was still sitting on the floor, Chaucer between his legs and nuzzling his neck. “Idoremember him! I remember this whole house. I remember my parents. Same as when I saw you for the first time, I felt a pull. That’s a good boy. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” His voice rose to an adorable pitch. “Do you think he can really see me? Or is it more of a sense thing?”

“Does it matter?” Dell said with a smile. “He’s just happy to have you back.”

“And I’m happy to havehim,” Cole cooed, and scrubbed his ears again.

“Clearly. You must be feeling something big to be able to pet him.”

A hiss from around the corner caught their attention.

“Psst,Dell—I mean Robbie!” Jason shout-whispered. “Care to join us?” He made wide eyes and jerked his head toward wherever Mrs. Lewis had gone.

“Coming!” Dell said with an apologetic grimace. “You’d better come too, or everyone will wonder why Chaucer won’t leave the entryway,” she added to Cole.

“Of course I’m coming,” he said, and pushed himself to stand. “Meeting my parents is the whole reason we’re here. I just didn’t know I’d have a furry best friend here too.” He smiled at her and brushed his fingertips along Chaucer’s head.

The dog stuck to Cole like glue as they followed the hallway in the direction Jason and Mrs. Lewis had gone. Along the way, they passed portraits hanging on the wall.

“That’s me!” Cole said, and pointed to one of him down on a knee in the grass of a shady park, one hand on Chaucer and smiling.

“And that’s Christopher—Chris! My brother!” he said, and pointed at the next. This one showed a young man who looked much like Cole, but less lanky and with darker features, smiling from the deck of a boat somewhere. “And that’s—” He paused and silently stared at the next photo. In it, Cole and his brother stood with arms looped around their parents: Mrs. Lewis, whom they’d already met, and Mr. Lewis, who looked like Cole and Christopher mashed together but older and softer around the edges. The four of them stood on a beach somewhere, smiling in the golden-hour sun.

“That’s my family,” Cole said in wonder. His voice pitched in a way that squeezed Dell’s heart. Each declaration carried the awe of discovering something new and the ache over longing for it.

Cole turned to her, eyes wide. “Dell, I remember them. Iknowthem!” The excitement dancing in his eyes set that soul-deep brown alight with cheer. “Christopher lives in LA, but he’s not in movies, he’s inmusic.And my dad loves to garden, and my mom—she’s the reason I became an English professor. She teaches high school English and used to read to me every night as a kid. We had our own book club when I was a teenager.”

Watching Cole’s life come back to him was like opening a gift. Dell’s joy was almost equal to his as knowledge of who he was and where he’d come from filled his face.

Cole gripped her shoulders. “Thank you for bringing me here. Thank you!” He kissed her cheek—Robbie’s cheek—and took off down the hall, Chaucer on his heels. “Mom! It’s me! I came back, I’m—”

Dell hurried after him to find the scene that had stopped Cole in his tracks: his mother fluffing the pillows on the sofa and waving Jason over to sit, and his father having come in from the French doors leading to the backyard.

“It’s me,” Cole said again, his tone much sadder this time. As if he realized he wouldn’t be taking part in this gathering the same way the others would.

Dell gripped his hand again and led him to the couch where she sat next to Jason, with Cole in between them. She knew Jason noticed by the way his left arm broke out in goose bumps and the little shimmy of his shoulders.

“What can I get you boys to drink? Iced tea? Lemonade?” Mrs. Lewis asked with a smile. She had the same deep brown eyes as her son.

“I’d love some iced tea,” Jason said.

“Me too,” Dell echoed.

“Coming right up,” she said, and then clucked her tongue at her husband. “David, you’re tracking dirt inside.”