"Oh God, yes. That casserole with the cornflakes and the tuna and the… What was the green thing?"
"I think it was supposed to be pesto. But we didn't have basil, so he used spinach. And no pine nuts, so he used peanut butter."
Ivy's laughing now, really laughing. "It was so bad."
"It was terrible. Granddad ate three helpings just to be supportive."
"Your grandfather is a saint."
"He really is." I take another sip of whiskey. "He asks about you, you know. Every time I call."
That stops her. "He does?"
"Yeah. He's always liked you. He told me before I left—" I stop, realizing what I'm about to say.
"What?"
I might as well go all in at this point. "He told me not to leave town without actually talking to you this time. Said he didn't raise a coward."
Ivy's eyes search mine. "This time?"
"I've come back to visit a few times over the years. You've never been around when I was here."
"You looked for me?"
"Every time." I hold her gaze. "But I was usually only here for a weekend, and you were working, or I was helping Granddad with something, and I never... I could never figure out how to just show up at the library without it being weird."
"It wouldn't have been weird."
"It would have been terrifying."
She blinks. "Why?"
Because you're the one person I've never been able to get out of my head. Because I've spent fifteen years wondering what if. Because I left this town to prove I could be something more, and the whole time I was gone, the thing I wanted most was still right here.
"Because you matter," I say instead. "Because I didn't want to screw it up."
She's quiet again, but this time it's different. This time she's looking at me like she's trying to solve a puzzle, and I'm the missing piece that doesn't quite fit.
Outside, I hear rain hammering against the windows. Inside, the fire crackles and someone laughs from across the bar. And at this table, in this moment, it's just us.
Just me and Ivy Rose, exactly like I've wanted for fifteen years.
"Your tow truck," I say suddenly. "We should check if they've called."
She pulls out her phone, and her face falls. "Three missed calls. Oh no."
"What?"
"Casey from Casey’s Automative came twenty minutes ago. I didn't hear my phone." She's already texting, her fingers flying across the screen. "He left. I have to reschedule."
"When can they come back?"
She winces. "Not until tomorrow morning. Nine AM."
"So, your car's staying here overnight anyway." An idea forms, reckless and probably stupid, but I say it anyway. "We could go back. To the reunion."
Ivy looks at me like I've suggested we jump off a bridge. "What?"
