Page 157 of The Design of Goodbye
It was time to say goodbye.
My dad went first. Andrew and I watched silently a few feet away.
“So,” started Andrew, nervously tugging on the collar of his sweatshirt that hadNo, I won’t fix your computerstitched on the front, “I wanted to thank you for everything you did for Liam. I know telling your dad wasn’t easy.”
“It wasn’t,” I said. “But Liam wasn’t safe, so...”
“No.” He pulled hard on his collar, stretching it out. “He wasn’t.”
Andrew had stayed at a hotel during the week, so we hadn’t talked much. Just some casual conversation during dinner. He was nice and funny. He seemed to care about Liam, too, which confused me. Liam had been convinced his brother hadn’t wanted him, so I didn’t know what to believe.
“You want him, right?” I asked, surprised at my bluntness. “Because I don’t want Liam to—”
“Of course.” A pause and then another nervous tug. “He doesn’t think I do, does he?”
“I’m not sure about now,” I said. “But when I tried to get him to tell someone about what was going on with your dad, he said he had no one. He said you wouldn’t want him.”
“We’ve never been close,” he admitted. “And after how I treated him after Mom...”He shook his head, angry with himself. “I can see why he thinks I don’t. I have a lot of regrets, but I’m going to work on fixing themandmy relationship with him.”
I wondered how he’d treated Liam; I wondered what he regretted. But those weren’t my questions to ask or my answers to know. I only hoped, while Liam was gone, they’d build the relationship they both needed. Maybe even wanted.
“Thanks,” I said. “That makes me feel better.”
Andrew went to respond, but my dad let out a sudden, ear-shattering scream. We both jumped to face the commotion. My dad was holding a piece of paper and staring at it in awe. I was about to ask what was going on, but then my dad pulled Liam into a hug, and I didn’t want to interrupt.
After they finished their goodbye, my dad came over to me, grin blazing like the January sun. “I hope you’re ready to have copious amounts of banana bread.” He squeezed my shoulder, giving me strength, before saying, “Your turn.” He nodded in Andrew’s direction. “Andrew and I will go inside and give you and Liam some space.”
As soon as they were gone, Liam was in front of me. He looked like a dream. And he’d feel like one soon.
“You didn’t,” I said.
He smirked. “I did.”
“Didn’t you sign a form promising you’d never give away the banana bread recipe?”
“I did do that, didn’t I?” He tapped his lips with his index finger.
“Does Olive know?” He nodded, and when he didn’t explain any further, I nudged his shoulder. “What did you do?”
“We made a deal,” he said.
“What kind of deal?”
“When I come back,” he stated casually, like those four words didn’t mean everything to me, “I promised Olive I’ll work the cash registers for four months straight. And,” he added, smiling, “I told her my birthday.”
I pouted. “I don’t even know your birthday!”
He laughed. The sound of it was rare but so comforting; I let the sound wrap around me like a blanket.
“You’re looking really cute right now, so I’ll tell you.” Of course, he didn’t tell me right away. He made me wait a few long, torturous seconds. “It’s April nineteenth.”
“No way! Mine is May nineteenth!” I grinned. “Nineteen can be our couple number.”
“I didn’t know that was a thing.”
“It wasn’t,” I admitted. “Until now.”
“Well,” he said, chuckling, “nineteen is a good number. I’m glad to share it with you.” He unzipped the interior pocket of his jacket, where he normally kept our truth book. “I have something for you. Turn around.”
