“So even if it’s weird, if it’s something you need to do, then you should do it.”

“It’s just…” Truman tried to pinpoint exactly why he needed to see Agatha Tark in the flesh. “She kinda saved me. As a kid and in my darkest moments, her world is what I escaped into. And I want to say thank you. But also, there are so many other people who I know feel the same.”

When Truman had told Charlotte and Germaine that Julia remembered Agatha Tark living here, they had both been eager to get in their cars and make the trek.

Wow, thanks, assholes—you never offered to make a trek to see me, Truman had teased them.

What?! I totally have! Germaine protested, which was true.

At the same time, Charlotte wrote, Yeah, duh, cuz you’re not Agatha freaking Tark.

Truman slid the chopped onions into the melted butter on the stove.

“And if I could get her to do the signing, people would get to tell her. I don’t know. I guess if she’s worked this hard to stay off the radar, then maybe she doesn’t care about that. But maybe she doesn’t want to deal with any of the publicity but she would be so happy to hear how much her work has helped people.”

Ash kissed him. “You won’t know until you try. I’ll go with you if you want.”

“Really? I’d love that.”

***

And so, the next morning, they set off to the address Truman had gotten that might be Agatha Tark’s. Ash was driving Truman’s car because Truman was too nervous. On the ferry, they held hands and watched gulls soar and dive over the water, hoping a passenger might drop a tasty crumb overboard, though the captain always explicitly instructed them not to. Truman waited until there weren’t many people around, then he pulled the last bite of his bagel from his pocket and dropped it over the side.

The gulls swarmed, and Ash turned to look back at him.

“You’re such a softy,” Ash said. Then he kissed Truman on the mouth, which took out any sting.

They were ten minutes away when Truman began to sweat and his stomach clenched.

“Oh god, was this a terrible idea? She’s gonna think I’m a freak for tracking her down—I am a freak for tracking her down. Shit, shit, what am I doing?”

“Do you want to abandon mission? We can take a pretty drive or go into Portland for lunch,” Ash offered, hand on Truman’s thigh. “There’s a place my friend works at that has the best blueberry pancakes you’ve ever had.”

Truman loved blueberry pancakes, but at the moment, the idea of food made him feel ill.

“Maybe we should just go pick some wildflowers for the shop and forget this idea,” Truman offered.

“If you want. Sure.”