Robbie: You don’t give yourself enough credit. I’ve seen your tile work.

  Devyn: How is it you can make me smile even when I still feel awful?

  Robbie: I don’t want you to feel bad.

  I’m the one who’s done a shitty job of communicating this past week.

  I miss you, too. I keep thinking—I just wish we could be in the same place again.

  Devyn: Same.

  April 14 Sunday at 9:25 a.m.

  Devyn: I wasn’t going to tell you this but I talked to Elena about us. I told her I wanted to jump on a plane and come see you. She said I should figure out my next step before I do that.

  Robbie: Elena’s probably right.

  Devyn: Does that mean you don’t want me to come?

  Robbie: I think we need to figure out what we both want before anything else happens.

  We had an agreement. I know I didn’t keep up my end of it but it was still probably a good idea.

  Devyn: I don’t know if it was a good idea or not. I know it wasn’t fair to ask you to keep things sex only.

  Robbie: Why not?

  Devyn: I already knew I liked you.

  Robbie: …

  What do you want now, Devyn?

  Devyn: You. But I know you need to be with your uncle.

  Robbie: We could try long distance.

  April 14 Sunday at 9:39 a.m.

  Robbie: Are you thinking or…?

  Devyn: Someone coded. I’ll call when I can.

  April 14 Sunday at 8:32 p.m.

  Devyn: I’m sorry. I wanted to call earlier but I didn’t get a break.

  Robbie: Don’t be sorry. Is everything okay?

  Devyn: No. Nothing feels okay.

  I don’t want what we had to be over.

  Robbie: Me neither.

  Robbie: Do you want to try long distance?

  Or talk about some other type of relationship?

  Devyn: I don’t know.

  Robbie: We knew we had an end date all along.

  Maybe we’re at a point where we need to try being friends.

  Devyn: Ouch.

  Robbie: I’m not saying that to be hurtful. I don’t want to hurt you at all. I’m just putting all my cards on the table. I like you. I like us together. But I can’t see an option for us if you don’t want to do long distance. And I’m not getting the sense that you want long distance.

  Robbie: Honestly I think you need to figure out what you want—what would be good for you. I know long distance isn’t ideal but that’s all I’ve got to offer.

  Robbie: Can I call you?

  Devyn: I’m still at work. Today was hard. I don’t think I can have the conversation we need to have here tonight.

  Robbie: I’m sorry. I wish I could give you a hug.

  April 14 Sunday at 11:45 p.m.

  Devyn: It’s late and I’m guessing you’re already asleep. The thing is…You’re right. I need to figure out what I want for myself before I get someone else involved. I know I’m not in a place where I can be in a serious relationship. I knew that from the very beginning.

  April 15 Monday at 6:45 a.m.

  Robbie: I get that you aren’t ready for a relationship.

  It makes me sad, but I understand.

  Do you think we could try being friends?

  Devyn: I think I need to step back.

  Robbie: Okay. I’ll give you some space. You know where to find me.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Six months later

  Fall was gorgeous on the lake. The leafy trees bordering the water were in peak color, bright patches of yellow, orange, and even some red mixed in with the evergreens, and the air felt crisp and clean. Sunsets were especially nice. Brief but brilliant.

  “Enjoy this—it won’t last,” Robbie murmured.

  “Nothing lasts,” Uncle Bruce said, sounding more pleased than mournful about what time stole.

  Robbie glanced over at him, half surprised he’d heard and half surprised to see him beaming as he gazed out at the lake. She’d asked if he wanted to keep her company while she grilled their dinner, but he’d acted like he had better things to do. Apparently, he’d changed his mind. She pushed her Mariners ballcap back on her head. “You need anything?”

  “Not a damn thing.” He settled in on one of the deck chairs and closed his eyes, tilting his face to the sun and repeating, “Not a damn thing.”

  The knee surgery had finally happened. He was a grump for the week following and she’d been exhausted, constantly tending to him. But the second week things improved, and by week three, he was in a better mood than he’d been in for most of the last several months.

  Now four weeks out, he was getting around on his own and even taking little walks along the marina. She turned the corn on the grill and glanced back at him. His legs were stretched out and he seemed about to doze off, but a smile pulled up the corners of his lips.

  She grinned and asked, “What’s up with you tonight?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Not buying it. You’re happy about something.”

  He chuckled. “I’m such a pain in the ass, you don’t know what to do if I’m in a good mood.”

  “So why are you in a good mood?”

  “No particular reason.”

  “Liar.”

  “It’s Thursday. When are you meeting up with Stacy?”

  “You’re changing the subject. Not subtly, by the way.” She knew something was up even if he wouldn’t say it. “Stacy’s at a conference. No friend-date tonight.”

  Since moving in with her uncle full time, her best friend, Stacy, had instituted regular friend-dates on Thursdays. Stacy’s friendship, and ironically Matt’s, too, had gotten her though the long months of wishing things could have worked out differently with Devyn. “If you want me out of the house, I can ask Matt if he wants to do something tonight.”

  “You two need to get out more.”

  “So you do want me out of the house?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I only said you needed to get out more. You’re both single and not getting any younger.”

  “Who’s coming over?” When he didn’t deny it, she knew she’d landed on the reason for his goofy happy look.

  “I don’t want to jinx it.”

  She shook her head. “You have the strangest superstitions of anyone I know.”

  “Considering how small your social circle is, that’s not saying much.”

  She had plenty of friends. Or at least plenty of friendly acquaintances and a few friends. “I like my social circle. I don’t need a ton of friends.”

  “You could use one more.”

  He meant she could use a girlfriend. “I’ll put up a notice.” Unfortunately, the sarcasm didn’t do a thing for the ache in her chest. “Should I have made more kebabs for our mystery guest?”

  “No. He said he’d get dinner at the airport. Anyway, he’s vegan.”

  Instantly she knew. “Paul’s coming? Tonight?”

  “He’s not here yet. I won’t say it.” The smile reached Uncle Bruce’s eyes as he added, “But it might be Paul.”

  Robbie let out a whoop, then tossed the tongs on the hook of the grill. She came over to where he was sitting and held out her arms. “Get up and let me hug you, Grump.”

  He grumbled she was making too big of a deal out of nothing but stood anyway. Paul had visited a few weeks after the stroke. Things hadn’t gone well. Uncle Bruce had at first been receptive to talking about a future and a serious relationship but then he’d changed his tune when Paul tried to lay out specifics. Robbie knew it was the uncertainty of the health issues. The last thing he wanted was to be a burden to Paul. But he hadn’t said that, and Paul had taken his reluctance to agree to any plan as a sign he wasn’t interested.

  Robbie had driven Paul to the airport and asked him not to give up. Still, he’d left Seattle heartbroken. A month later, Uncle Bruce reached out and apologized. They’d had breakfast together on videochat every day since.

  Uncle Bruce only briefly accepted any hug and let go, saying, “Get the kebabs off the grill. The chicken won’t be any good overcooked.”

  “Don’t let anyone see you get too emotional,” she said, poking his arm. “Should we go back inside, or do you want to eat out here?”

  “Here is good.”

  She didn’t complain. The water was smooth as glass, and it truly was a perfect evening. The kebabs and corn were gone before Uncle Bruce cleared his throat and said, “Speaking of emotional, you haven’t mentioned Devyn in a while.”

  “What does that have to do with being emotional?”

  “She’s the only one I’ve seen you cry over. How is she?”

  “She’s fine.” Robbie stood and held out her hand. “Give me your plate. I want to get the dishes done before Paul gets here.” In fact, all she wanted was out of the conversation.

  He didn’t hand over his plate. “When was the last time you called her?”

  “We don’t talk on the phone. We text.”

  “Fine. When was the last time you texted her?”

  “I don’t know.” She knew exactly. Six days ago.

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing. Give me your plate.”

  “You think I don’t know you after all this time?” He shook his head and handed her the plate finally. “You want to call her. So call her.”

  “I didn’t say I wanted to call anyone.” She clenched her jaw, frustrated he was getting under her skin and more frustrated that he could. “I’m going to clean up before Paul gets here.”

  “You know they don’t give martyr awards for not calling.”

  “Whatever.” She wasn’t a martyr. She was simply a realist.

  She went inside and dropped the dishes in the sink and then closed her eyes for a moment. Not thinking of Devyn was a lost cause, but she wished her mind would give her a break. So much of the last seven months had consisted of trying not to think about Devyn and failing spectacularly.

  They’d only spoken once over the phone. That was the call that ended with a virtual throat punch. When Devyn had denied she’d been on a date, despite what the woman who’d ripped into Robbie had said, Robbie had wanted to believe her. But they’d gone sailing. The same sailing trip she’d planned to go on with Devyn.

  After the ill-fated call, and a rush of text messages, Robbie had pushed through the hurt to again ask the question Devyn never directly answered—do you want to try long distance? The moment Devyn sidestepped answering, she knew how things were going to go. She pulled away then and texted something she’d often wished she could take back: I think you need to figure out what you want—what would be good for you. I know long distance isn’t ideal but that’s all I’ve got to offer. At the time, she’d been trying to mitigate her own pain. It was only afterward she’d realized what she’d done. She’d offered the bare minimum and placed everything on Devyn’s shoulders.

  She couldn’t forget Devyn’s response: You’re right. I need to figure out what I want for myself before I get someone else involved.

  Being right about what Devyn needed had felt worse than anything else. Devyn didn’t need her.

  After that, a month passed with no messages. Then Devyn started texting again, but the mood had changed. Their exchanges were more like check-ins. They chatted about their plans for the day or some annoyance or something good that had happened. Nothing wildly important. It was nice keeping in touch, but the texts only drove home the growing separation between them. She started thinking that if Devyn didn’t ever want a relationship, she wished she’d stop messaging. But she couldn’t bring herself to say as much.

  Then out of the blue—last week—Devyn had asked if she was dating anyone. Robbie told her she wasn’t, thinking it would have been strange to not mention it until she realized Devyn might be dating someone and looking for a way to tell her. When she’d asked, Devyn’s response kicked her in the stomach: There is someone I’m interested in.

  Thankfully over text Robbie could hide her feelings and she’d simply said: That’s great. I’m happy for you.

  Devyn had sent a few more texts and Robbie had given only cursory responses. She knew she needed to step back and Devyn seemed to have gotten the hint. She’d stopped texting and six days had gone by without a message.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket and for a moment she wondered if it could be Devyn. Was Devyn texting now to tell her about whoever had stolen her heart? She finished cleaning the kitchen before checking her phone.

  Matt: I have to go shopping. For clothes. FML.

  Robbie felt a twinge of disappointment that the message wasn’t from Devyn. I’m sorry for your loss. What’s the occasion?

  Have to wear business casual beginning Monday.

  That sucks. Since Matt had wanted to stay in Seattle, he’d had to find a different job. It hadn’t taken him long, but the new company insisted all “remote” workers be in the office three days a week. He’d only recently, and grudgingly, begun wearing pants. I won’t go shopping with you, but I’ll buy the ice cream. Molly Moons?

  Now? I can beat you there.

  A half hour later she pulled up to Molly Moons and easily picked out Matt waiting for her with a grim expression. “Still mad about the business casual?”

  “I’ve been given a list of acceptable clothing items.”

  She laughed. “Let me guess, Star Wars T-shirts and Padres gear aren’t on the list?”

  “And no cargo shorts.”

  “You need ice cream.” She reached for the door, catching a whiff of the ice cream shop’s distinctive sweet scent, and moaned. “It’s a good thing we don’t live closer to this place.”

  “Are you getting something besides melted chocolate?”

  “Nope.”

  He snorted. “Gourmet cooking until it comes to ice cream?”

  “Molly Moon’s melted chocolate ice cream is gourmet.” She’d introduced Matt to Molly Moons not long after she’d come back from San Diego. He’d been excited to try all the flavors but she always got the same thing. “I know what I like.”

  “Boring.”

  “Maybe.” She didn’t care. “I don’t like being disappointed.”

  “I’m not disappointed trying all the flavors.” He winked, and she knew he wasn’t only talking about ice cream. He’d gone on two dates that week with different women and was baiting her to ask about said dates. She was half-interested but only because he told good stories about dates gone wrong. If either had gone well, she’d only be more depressed about her own fortune. Thankfully, he got distracted eyeing the list of new flavors. “Ooh, blueberry pie ice cream?”

  “All yours.”

  She stepped up to the counter and ordered her usual. Matt went for the new flavor, making a point of moaning over the first lick.

  “Stacy would tease you endlessly about that moan.”

  Matt stopped mid-lick. She’d suspected Matt had a crush after she’d introduced the two but now she was sure. “Good thing she’s not here. I can tease you about your crush.”

  “Whatever.” He grinned, but the blush was obvious. “Where is she, by the way? Aren’t Thursdays the day you two hang out?”

  “She’s at a conference.”

  “Oh.” His downturned look said plenty.

  “Why haven’t you asked her out yet?”

  “I did. She said no.” Matt’s brow furrowed. “I really like her, too.”

  “If it’s any consolation, she turned me down the first time I asked. But I was drunk and naked.”

  He laughed. “Why’d you two break up?”

  “We were better friends than lovers.” It was depressing to admit but also the truth. And it made her think of Devyn. With Devyn, they’d been better as lovers. The friendship wasn’t going well at all.

  “Maybe I’ll ask a second time.”

  “Never hurts. If she turns you down twice, though, let it go.”

  He nodded solemnly and she knew he was serious about liking Stacy. They left the ice cream shop and wandered toward the park. The sky was darkening and they wouldn’t have long before it got too cold to be outside. They reached a bench and Matt sat down. She took the space next to him.

  “You remember Uncle Bruce’s friend Paul from Palm Springs?”

  Matt nodded. “I lost fifty bucks to him on one round of poker.”

  “He’s in town again.” She paused. “I’m pretty sure he’s going to convince Uncle Bruce to move to Palm Springs.”

  “Would he sell his houseboat? What about the marina?”

  “I’ll take over the marina officially and probably buy his house.” She wasn’t ready to deal with that part yet, however. She hadn’t completely accepted the reality of being fully in charge. Still, she knew Uncle Bruce belonged with Paul. “Sometimes I think relationships aren’t worth the trouble, but then I hear Uncle Bruce talking with Paul. They make me think it’s possible being happy with someone for the long haul.”

  Matt nodded but his look was distant. Either he agreed or he was still thinking about his chances with Stacy.

  “Anyway. I thought you should know.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up. How much notice will I get if I have to move?”