Page 161 of Just One More Thing

Everybody in town woke up and decided they needed doughnuts today. Frank and I spent half the day making morewhile Granny showed every single customer her cast-free leg and defied every instruction the doctor gave her, especially the part about taking it easy.

The tables are still full even though we sold out of both batches. At this point, people are just here for the company.

Mr. Humphrey is asleep at his usual corner table, arms folded over his chest, chin dropped to it like he powered down mid-thought.

Mrs. Kravitz is perched at the front window, keeping a visual record of all comings and goings for later dissemination to the town like some kind of floral print intelligence agency.

“I’ll be back,” I tell Granny.

Half the shop answers me like I just made a public service announcement.

Outside, I pass Lazy Larry’s. “HOW LAZY IS HE?”

I shake my head, smiling.

This town.

The bell over the door of Tall Tales announces me the same way it has every day this summer.

Walt looks up. Sees me. Reaches for a cup before I even get to the counter. He already knows. He always knows.

He writes something on the side, puts on the lid, and slides it toward me.

I look down.

AFTER ALL THIS TIME, IT’S STILL YOU

I just stare at it. “Walt.”

He avoids my eyes and jerks his chin toward the door. “Have a good walk.”

No speech. No follow-up. Just the literary equivalent of setting me on fire and wishing me a pleasant evening. So I go.

I take the loop slow.The Point is winding down into evening. A pelican stands on a piling watching the sun lower toward the water. The air smells like everything I remember before I try not to remember it.

It smells like childhood.

It smells like summers.

It smells like… my Jake.

I pass The Knuckle. I don’t stop. But of course I look.

And for one stupid second, all I can see is every version of him that ever lived there. Boy. Teenager. Man. The one who waited. The one who didn’t stop.

I keep walking.

Near Hart’s Landing, Mrs. Kravitz appears beside me so suddenly I nearly drop my latte. “For what it’s worth,” she says, falling into step with me, “nobody will ever look at you the way Jake Wheeler does.”

I turn my head and stare at her.

She wiggles her fingers at me. “Toot toot.”

Then she veers off without another word.

I keep walking.

Miss Hattie sees me coming and holds out a hot dog before I even reach her cart. “You need to wrap your frown around this,” she says. “It’ll make you feel better.”