Page 77 of The Design of Goodbye
“School’s not in session, so he’s allowed to work full time.”
“He worked Thanksgiving?”
She nodded while grabbing some gummy bears and somehow stuffing the entire bag into the pocket of her jeans. “It’s hard to find people willing to work Thanksgiving and Black Friday. He was fine with it.” She glanced at the present again. “What’d you get him?”
“Oh, um,” I muttered, shyly moving the bag behind my back like she could somehow see through it. “It’s not exciting.”
“Well, no matter how not exciting it is, it’ll cheer him up.”
“Does he need cheering up?”
Her eyes flickered to Liam and then back to me. “He hasn’t been himself all week. Seems down. Normally, he laughs at my jokes, but he’s only cracked a smile.” She pointed to him. “He’s free. You better go.”
I felt like I might explode with nerves as I walked over to him. He was taking a drink out of his water bottle and didn’t notice me until I greeted him.
“This is a nice surprise.” He smiled softly. It didn’t reach his eyes, but that wasn’t entirely out of character. He went to scan my items but faltered when he saw the large gift bag I’d placed on the conveyor belt. “What’s this?”
“It’s for you.”
“You got me a gift?”
“Olive said you can take a break.” I pointed over his shoulder. She was where I’d left her, watching us. “Wanna go open it?”
He turned around, and Olive gave him a thumbs-up, then a shooing motion. “Follow me,” he said after locking the cash register and turning off his light.
He took me to the break room at the back of the store. A tiny kitchen was adjacent to a few employee lockers. It was small, but at least it was empty.
“I’ve always wanted to see what a grocery store break room looks like.”
“Thoughts?” he asked.
“Small, but at least you have a coffee pot.” I handed him the gift. “Open it before I get too nervous and change my mind.”
He opened the present slowly, like he wanted to savor the moment. When he pulled out the forest-green trucker jacket, his face brightened. “You bought me a jacket?”
“I made it.”
“You made this?” He was proud. Of course he was—because this was Liam. He listened and remembered and understood perfectly—this was more than a jacket. He traced his fingers over the seams of the canvas and the sherpa-lined interior, taking it all in. “Madison, this is amazing. Thank you. I love it. But why,” he started, practically awestruck, “did you make me a jacket?”
“You inspired me.”
He blinked. “I did?”
“I don’t like that you’re cold all the time.” I took in a deep, shaky breath. “I care about you, and—”
“You do?”
“You’re my friend.” Heart pounding, I quickly added, “I think.”
“You think?”
“No, you are. My friend, that is. I said that because I don’t know if I’myourfriend and didn’t want to get embarrassed.”
“You’re my friend, too.” He smirked. “I think.”
“I’m glad that’s settled. Try it on,” I encouraged. “I want to make sure it fits.”
Once he put it on, I had to make sure I was still breathing becausewow.
