I nod earnestly. Doris is definitely like that, and Mrs. Finnamore too. Even Jim tells me all the time that he was shocked when his wife died, because he thought they had years left together. Which is heartbreaking, obviously, but also... his wife was ninety-three when she died. Jim talks about her like she shouldhave had twenty or thirty years left, which even I know isn’t medically realistic.
“If you ask me, we keep people alive far too long these days,” Carla adds. “I hope I die in my sleep the day I turn seventy-five.”
“That’s cheerful,” Laurent says dryly.
“You’ll be lucky to reach seventy,” Carla retorts, “with all your red meat and cigars.”
“Speaking of which,” Laurent says, “I’ve got my eye on one of those burgers. Very nice to meet you, Emily.”
“You too,” I say. They both smile at me and then head off to the barbecue, leaving John and me alone. “I can’t believe you invited your parents,” I say.
I say it to tease him, but he just shrugs. “They like stuff like this.”
“Well, it was really nice of them. They’re both so impressive too! A doctor and a businessman.” I almost add something else, then think better of it and quickly shut my mouth.
John looks at me for a moment. “Maybe I was dropped on my head as a child.”
“Um—what?”
He raises an eyebrow. “You were wondering how an endocrinologist and a successful businessman wound up with a son who’s a mechanic. Weren’t you?”
My face turns bright red. “Oh—no—”
“So maybe Iwassmart when I was born, but then I was dropped on my head as a kid, and that’s how I wound up like this. I’ll have to ask my parents sometime.” His voice is dry, but there’s an edge to it.
And he’s right. Thatiswhat I was wondering.
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” I say, mortified.
“Mm.” He takes a sip of soda. “You sort of do, though.”
“I don’t! I swear I don’t.”
He just looks at me, and I feel a sharp twisting in my chest.
He’s totally caught me out.
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” I say. “I really, really don’t.” I hesitate, then add, “It just sometimes seems like... I don’t know.”
“What?”
“Well... like you might’ve settled a bit, I guess.”
He snorts. “I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I like working at the shop. And I like living in Waldon. My parents are both successful, but they’d tell you themselves, it hasn’t always made them happy. They’d rather me and my sister do something we like rather than work ourselves to death.”
“No, I get that. I just feel like—I don’t know—”
“Like I should be chasing after some big, important ‘dream job’?”
“Well... yes,” I say helplessly. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be big or important—”
“Because that would be beyond me,” he says dryly.
“No! I just mean, you should do something you love.”
“Okay, well, Iloveworking on cars. Just because you’re not interested in something doesn’t mean it’s totally useless.”
“I know!”
