Page 122 of Hang the Moon
It was a call, and from a wrong number, no less.
“It’s rude to keep checking your phone at the table.”
He gritted his teeth. “Sorry. You’re right. I’m just... waiting on a text.”
“From someone...special?” Mom drew out the word.
She had no idea.
“I’ve been seeing someone, actually.” He braced himself. “It’s Annie.”
Mom pursed her lips. “Annie? Your sister’s Annie?”
The one and only Annie he knew, yes. “That Annie.”
“Huh.” She laughed. “You used to have the biggest crush on her.”
He fiddled with his silverware. “Mm-hmm. I did.”
“I didn’t know Annie lived in Seattle.”
He winced. “She doesn’t actually. She’s still in Philadelphia, but she’s thinking about moving. I’m... I’m hoping she does.”
His phone vibrated atop the table.
ANNIE (12:01 P.M.):Sorry! I was up in the air. Thinking about you, too.
Up in the air... he sucked in a rasping breath.
Mom cooed. “You’re such an optimist, Brendon. I love how nothing gets you down. You just bounce right back. I admire that, you know?”
Brendon clenched his jaw. He didn’t feel like much of an optimist.
***
Friday, July 2
BRENDON (11:14 A.M.):Hey. Hope you’re settling in.
He stared at his screen, praying an explanation would materialize. At the very least a message that she’d made it to London safely.
ANNIE (11:22 A.M.):
He closed his eyes and threw his phone across the room, where it bounced against his bed.
***
Saturday, July 4
Brendon rested his arms on the railing of theArgosyand stared out at the dark, choppy water of Lake Union. The sun had sunk beneath the horizon forty-five minutes ago, the sky now an indigo canvas dotted with bright twinkling stars. The moon, almost full, reflected off the turbulent water, turning the surface into liquid chrome.
Bracing himself against the breeze, he tucked his arms in tighter, trying to keep the wind from cutting through him on the upper deck of the boat, where Elle had dragged him. None of this had been his idea, celebrating the Fourth of July, going out on the lake, standing on the top observation deck.
July Fourth. Three weeks had passed since Annie had left Seattle. Three days since her scheduled flight to London. It was time—pasttime—for him to accept the fact she wasn’t coming back.
Darcy could’ve let him stew in peace, but oh no. She, Elle,and Margot had dragged him out onto a boat to watch the fireworks with a hundred strangers. He’d been perfectly content to stay at home and catch the fireworks from his balcony overlooking the park like he did every year, the only part of this holiday he’d ever enjoyed. This year he was struggling to muster the enthusiasm for even that.
Elle bumped him with her hip and smiled. “Excited for the show?”
