you didnât know what love was,â I said.
âIâve observed some so-called love,â she said. âYou should be glad heâs leaving now so you can start getting over him as soon as possible.â
âMaybe Iâll never get over him.â
âThatâs just what I mean. Youâre way too attached to him. Roll with the punches a little, Robin. Chris is not actually necessary to your long-term survival.â
I was pretty sure he was, but I didnât argue. After all, Franny knew more about long-term survival than I did.
Since Iâd decided not to accompany Chris and his parents to the airport in Cedar Rapids the next dayâI did not intend to descend into hell with the Melvilles watching âwe were having dinner at our favorite place, the Fish Shack down by the lake. I kept thinking about how it was the last time Iâd see him until August 20, and the catfish bones kept getting caught in my throat. Neither of us was able to look the other in the eye or come up with anything more to say than, âGood fish.â
Then, when I did look up, who should be headed for our table but my mother and her giant boyfriend.
âI didnât know you two were coming here,â she said. Then she got a good look at our faces and probably wished she hadnât come.
âYour mother says the catfish from Thunder Lake is the best Iâll ever eat,â Michael Evans said, beaming at her as if picking a restaurant showcased her brilliance.
âHi, Mom. Um, Michael, this is Chris,â I said, keeping the presentations brief. Chris stood up immediately and shook hands with Michael.
âNice to meet you, sir.â
âSo, youâre Chris,â Michael said as though heâd been hearing about him for years.
âIâm afraid so,â Chris said, smiling weakly.
âWe didnât come over to interrupt you,â Mom said quickly. âOur table is on the other side. We just wanted to say hello.â She took Michael Evansâs arm and he steered her across the room to âtheirâ table.
Since Sunday sheâd seen him every day. At the hospital on Monday, then last night theyâd gone to a movie, and now they were having dinner together again. Was this getting to be a thing or what? And what was this âweâ business? A few nights ago she was laughing at his seat covers.
âThatâs the guy, huh? Heâs twice the size of your Mom. She seems to like him though.â
I shivered. âI guess. Itâs weird.â
âIs it?â
âYeah. I mean, sheâs never dated anybody before. Not since my dad, anyway.â
âLong time to be alone.â
âShe isnât aloneâIâm with her.â
âYou know what I mean. Most people want to get married again. Your dad did.â
I shrugged. âI guess. You know, I might go see him this summer.â The more I thought about the trip, the more I liked the idea. After all, if Chris was going away, why shouldnât I? It couldnât be any worse than staying here alone, squirting mushy ice cream into cones and feeling sorry for myself.
âReally?â Chris sat back in his chair and looked at me skeptically. âWhen did this happen?â
âMonday. My aunt Dory wants me to help her drive across the countryâher and my two cousins. To California.â
Chris looked surprised. âThatâs great! Why didnât you tell me right away?â
âI donât know. You were so excited about your trip . . .â
âWow, Iâve never even been to California.â
âWell, Iâve never been to Italy, so now weâre even.â
He ignored my little sting. âAre these your cousins from Chicago? Whose dad died recently? I thought you werenât too crazy about them.â
âOh, theyâre older now. We get along. Itâll be fun!â That was highly unlikely, but it seemed like a good idea