“Call if you’re going to be even a minute late.”

“Okay.”

“Ooh, or you could text!” she said, her eyes lit with excitement.

“It’ll be a surprise.”

“Wait, you have a phone?” Sean perked up.

Francine rushed to give him the number, and then the phone buzzed in my pocket. “You kids stand there, let me take a picture.”

“Francine,” I whined. “Come on!”

“For Joellen!”

“No way.”

“Fine.” She took Terry from Sean to give to me. “Say goodbye to Terry Johnson at least.”

I held his face to mine and kissed his snout. “Wait for me,” I whispered. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”

“Oh,” Francine said. “Got it! I’ll send it to Kira; she’ll love it. Look!” She held her phone to Sean.

“Awwww,” he said. “You two are in love!”

I put Terry on the sofa and pushed Sean to the door. “We’re going now. See you at eleven.”

Off the porch and safely at the road, he said, “Check your texts.”

you look beautiful in pink

Beautiful? I nearly passed out. “You…look beautiful in gray.” I struggled to get myself together.

“I’ve been told I’m an autumn.”

“By who?” We crossed the road and onto the path to the theater.

“Took a quiz in a Cosmo at the dentist.”

My phone buzzed again. Kira.

OMG YOU HAVE A PHONE HAVE FUN TONIGHT

I held the text up for Sean. “What is this?”

“That is…time to turn off your phone.”

The path opened to hug the shoreline, Sean leading the way, no room to walk beside him until we reached the sidewalk near the theater, and then he took my hand.

“Does your mom not like it when you’re out on a school night?”

He thought for a minute. “I’m not in the habit of going out a lot. With people.”

Does people mean girls? “You mean, besides bonfire parties?”

“I mean, just with one person.”

“Oh.” Why?

“Also my mom isn’t around a lot until December. She mostly lives at Rainier in the ranger cabins, but she’s back for winter soon.”

I stopped walking. “Wait—not around a lot, like she’s not home?”

“Yeah.”

“How much is ‘a lot’?”

“Well. She’s home from December until the first of April, then she’s on the mountain.”

My hands hung limp at my sides in disbelief. “What?”

“What what?”

“You live alone.”

“No, she’s just working.”

“Three hours away, on a volcano!”

“She comes home some weekends, at least once a month, and she’s home all of winter and some of spring….”

I caught up with him, almost to the theater.

“Do you live in a house?” I asked as we walked. “Do you have raging parties all the time? Do you cook? You do your own laundry?”

“Yes. No. Yes. Yes.”

“Huh,” I said. “Wow.”