My chest feels like it’s caving in as I lean against the door to our place. Only when I’m safe on my own side of the cottage do I look down at the paper.
“The Last Summer Bucket List,” reads Lottie’s writing on the top.
Underneath it are ten items.
Chapter FourteenThe Last Summer Bucket List
Watch the sunrise at Siasconset Beach.
Drive to Great Point Lighthouse.
Get onstage at the Chicken Box.
Win pickleball tournament.
Go whale watching.
Visit the Loines Observatory.
Have a beach picnic.
Name the cottage.
Crash a wedding.
Do something brave.
Chapter FifteenLily
June 16
Theo is already waiting on the pickleball court when we arrive on Thursday, balancing a neon-yellow ball on the center of his paddle. When he sees the two of us approaching, the ball falls off and rolls to the corner of the court. An expression crosses his face like a shadow, but before I can place it, he is grinning again. He runs to the ball before it intrudes on a neighboring court’s game. As he lopes after it, he reminds me, bizarrely, of Josie’s old golden retriever, all long limbs and energy.
“Hey, you two.” He waves, approaching my mom for a hug and giving me a high five. I meet his hand limply, which makes our palms stick together. “I didn’t know I had two customers today.”
“We’ve decided to compete in the tournament in August, so I thought it would be best if we practiced as a team,” I tell him. “I’m sorry, I should have mentioned that.”
Rose told me about the bucket list she found in Lottie’s old desk on Saturday while I was out talking to Tommy.
“And why exactly were you there? In the rental cottage?” I asked.
“Ignore that part,” Rose said. “But we have to do it. Right? I mean, I didn’t know if you’d ever be back here for a full season. This is our chance to live the perfect summer Lottie dreamed of.”
Rose’s eyes were wet, and the thought of Lottie writing down this secret wish list brought me to tears, too. Why hadn’t she told us? We could’ve helped her complete the list.
“When do you think she wrote this?” I asked.
Clearly, Lottie thought herself physically well enough to compete in a pickleball tournament, but she was also somehow certain it would be her last summer. The more this summer has progressed, the less I seem to understand Mom, Lottie, and even myself.
“I’m not sure,” said Mom. “But are you in?”
Of course I was. Secretly, I wondered if I could somehow incorporate my plan with Thomas into the bucket list… if I can use it as a way to get them together. He’s skeptical of my meddling, but I’m determined. First, I’m trying to ease Rose into it, figure out her feelings toward him and wait for the anger to settle.
I figured Theo’s offer to teach me pickleball was serendipitous, so I picked her up on my way home from work and asked her to join.
“A tournament?” asks Theo now. The ball he’s balancing freezes in the center of his paddle. “Isn’t that a little ambitious? Have either of you ever even played before?”
“We’re quick learners,” says Rose. “And it’s a long story. Are you sure it’s fine if I crash?”
