Page 141 of Just One More Thing

“Especially with that.” He glances at it. “She believed women should always have at least one thing in their hand when men were making them foolish.” His mouth twitches. “Lucky for me it was never a frying pan.”

I laugh, and this time it comes easier.

I stand, brushing sugar from my shorts that I’m pretty sure has been there since this morning.

Willard tips his chin up at me. “Emory.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to decide the rest of your life today.”

Relief loosens something in my chest so fast I almost sit back down. Then he adds, “But you can decide not to ruin a perfectly good afternoon by auditioning tragedies for tomorrow.”

Chip chatters in agreement.

I smile down at both of them. “Thank you.”

He tips his hat. “Anytime.”

I take one step down the shell path, then stop and look back. “Do you think he knows?” I ask quietly. “That I’m trying. Even if I’m scared.”

“I think he’s been knowing a long time.”

I start back down the shell path toward the dock.

Toward Jake.

I count the first eighteen steps before I stop.

For once, I don’t feel like I need to measure the distance.

I still don’t know what happens next.

I still don’t know what I’m doing about Birmingham or timing or all the big life shaped questions waiting just beyond this afternoon.

But for once, I don’t start solving tomorrow to avoid living today.

For now, I just keep walking.

CHAPTER 34

JAKE

Hank is sprawled in the shade beside the boathouse, watching me repair a section of the deck railing with the kind of lazy moral support only a bulldog can provide. His back legs are kicked out behind him like a frog, cheeks flattened against the dock boards, snoring between every few breaths.

September’s finally starting to take the edge off the heat, but the air still hangs thick enough to wear.

My phone starts playingRocky Topbeside my foot.

Ryan.

I wipe my hand on my shorts and answer on the first ring. “What’s up?”

“You alone?” he asks.

I glance at Hank. “Hank’s here, and he’s a bigger eavesdropper than Wayne.”

Hank lifts one eyelid, decides the conversation isn’t worth participating in, and goes back to sleep.