Page 37 of The Comeback Summer

“Did it work?” he asks.

“Yes, but he figured out we were faking it!”

“How?” he says, sounding so surprised that I burst into a laugh.

“Aunt Penelope? OldParee?” I say, stifling a giggle. “Josh, you could have pretended to be my brother or something.”

“What would’ve been the fun in that?”

“Plus, thataccent—I told you years ago to never, ever try any accents, remember?”

“Och, the wee lass has wounded me,” he says in a terrible Scottish brogue, then switches to something I assume is trying to be Russian: “I am expert at accent. I learn from KGB—”

“Stop!” I’m laughing so hard I have to lean against a building to catch my breath.

Usually, I’d call an Uber, but that’s not in the budget anymore. Luckily it’s a warm June evening, the sun low enough that the streets are bathed in shadows, the breeze carrying the faintly crisp scent of the lake.

Once I start walking again, I ask him about his day, and he tells me about a project he’s working on. Every summer, researchers from the Shedd take a group of high school students to study marine biology in the Bahamas. Josh is developing a new educational track focusing on coral reef conservation.

His enthusiasm for his work bursts out of him—he was never this passionate about anything we studied in college, or about his future as a financial planner.

And that’s when it hits me.

Have I ever been this passionate about my work? I’ve been working for the Freedman Group for four years, and I’m not sure I’ve ever created anything I’ve been truly excited about. A strangely wistful feeling washes over me.

“Sorry, I’m talking your ear off,” Josh says. “Tell me about your day. How’s this summer challenge going?”

I describe the journaling and the training with Libby. An ambulance wails by, and I put my finger to my ear.

“I should warn you,” I tell him as I pass Hotel Lincoln, dodging the throngs of people heading out for the night. “Libby’s not thrilled about having you on our D&D team.”

“Ourworld-classD&D team,” he says.

“But since I’m in charge of the training program, she’s going to have to deal with it. That’s our trade: I do the training program; she coordinates the dates for me.”

“Sounds fair.”

“As long as she’s more careful about who she sets me up with. Rob was sketchy. But it’s over! One down, eleven to go.”

There’s a pause. Our easy back-and-forth has stalled out.

“Josh? You still there?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah, sorry. It’s a little weird knowing that you’re going out with twelve men this summer.”

Anger flashes inside me, white-hot and surprising. He’s the one who leftme; he’s the one who fell for somebody else.

“You don’t get to say that to me,” I say, then swallow down my anger, softening the edge in my words. “We’re friends, Josh. Right?”

He’s quiet for a moment, then says in a firm voice, “Right. Just want you to be safe.” Another pause. “Anyway, we should go running again soon, friend. And I have an idea of where we should go.”

My interest is piqued. “Where?”

“You’ll see.”

I hesitate, frowning; I hate not knowing what to expect.

“Come on,” Josh urges. “It’ll be fun. I promise.”

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