LITMIR.BIZ

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about Brooklyn’s clamoring fervor made her more conscious of the thud of her heart, the rasp of her breath and the heat of her skin. It made her feel alive, vibrant and brimming with possibilities...such as reconnecting with Niall Walsh.

      When MaryAnne had called her with the lunch date, she’d had to hear it twice. It seemed unreal, but here she was, moments away from seeing her friend again, and she couldn’t be more elated...or nervous. Did he really want to see her, or had MaryAnne twisted his arm? If he’d called her, she’d feel more certain.

      Too anxious to sleep, she’d spent most of last night imagining how their lunch would go—what she would say, what he would do.... Would their old friendship rekindle or would they sit awkwardly like strangers? He’d always been her rock, strong and considerate when her world had fallen apart. Her mind flashed back to the summer she’d turned thirteen, when her parents had divorced.

      “You’re taking me out of camp and making us move upstate on parents’ weekend?” she’d demanded when her mother had called the day before she and Kayleigh’s father were supposed to visit her at Otter Creek.

      “Well...I...ah—” Her mother had cleared her throat, then seemed to take a long gulp of something before finally saying in a rush, “Your father and I are getting a divorce.”

      “A what? Why? You and Daddy are happy.” Her heart had taken flight in her chest and beat against her ribs trying to escape. How could this be? They’d never fought like her friends’ parents. It didn’t make sense.

      “We’re just not compatible,” her mother had said with a breathy sigh.

      Kayleigh had turned her back on her inquisitive camp director and cupped her hand around the phone and her mouth. “What does that mean?”

      “Your father and I don’t get along. I’m sorry, but we’re getting divorced.”

      “And why didn’t you figure this out before you got married?” Her voice had risen, anger and fear lancing through her. Her artist mother and stockbroker father had always seemed like a mismatch, but they’d made it this far. Why break up? And why call now instead of waiting to tell her when camp ended? When Kayleigh was home, in familiar surroundings, better able to process the devastating news?

      It had felt as though the world had reversed its spin, and everything she’d assumed about her life and family was wrong, her faith in both broken.

      “We rushed into it. Please understand.” Her mother’s voice had turned pleading. “If we’d taken more time, maybe this could have been prevented.”

      “What about Chris and me? Don’t you care about us? How we feel?”

      “Of course we do. We’ve waited to tell you until now so that you’d enjoy the first part of the summer with your camp friends and have the second half to get used to your new home. It’s what’s best for you. You trust me, don’t you?”

      Speechless, Kayleigh couldn’t imagine what to say. How could she trust her mother after this? Dropping the phone, she’d raced outside to discover Niall waiting beneath a pine tree. His eyes had searched hers, and he’d taken off after her as she’d dashed down to the beach, needing to be near water. Its undulating surface and calm blue depths had always soothed her restless spirit.

      His shoulder had brushed hers as they’d sat on the dock, their feet swinging. Although he hadn’t spoken, his quiet, steady presence had reassured her in a disintegrating world.

      “They’re divorcing, and they didn’t give us any warning. Not even a hint,” she’d said at last, her harsh voice startling a mallard that took flight, squawking.

      “I’m sorry, Kay. That really sucks.” Niall had unclenched her hands and held one in his own. Despite her anguish, she’d felt a shimmer of pleasure at his touch.

      “I hate them.” She’d chucked one of the rocks she’d scooped up on her run to the navy water, glad at the loud splash it’d made. “They only care about themselves. Not me and Chris. Mom’s moving us upstate tomorrow, and I don’t even get to say goodbye to my friends.” She looked into his large brown eyes. “Except you.”

      “I don’t want to say goodbye,” he said, his voice cracking at the end.

      Kayleigh chucked another rock, farther than the last. “We don’t have a choice, because my parents made it for us. According to them—” she’d made air quotes “—they ‘know best’ and need to separate because they don’t get along.”

      He’d used the bottom of his shirt to wipe away the angry tears flowing down her face, his touch gentle, his soulful eyes full of concern.

      “You said they didn’t spend a lot of time together.”

      She’d swallowed hard, recalling that her mother had often disappeared into her studio behind their brownstone. “If they didn’t want to be together, then they shouldn’t have gotten married. I’m never going to be like them. Never getting divorced.”

      He’d pulled her head to his shoulder and rested his cheek atop it. “Lots of people do.”

      “Not me.” Determination had gripped her. “And I know how to make sure of it. Can I borrow your notepad and pen?”

      Niall had reached into his shirt pocket and pulled them out. No matter how much he was teased, he’d always carried them around to jot down ideas.

      “Are you writing them a letter?” he’d asked. The bright afternoon sun brought out the lighter brown strands in his dark hair and a fleck of gold in his eyes. Funny that she’d never noticed it before. A fluttery feeling took her by surprise. This was Niall, she’d reminded herself. A good friend. Practically a brother. Nothing more. Yet suddenly it’d been hard to look him in the eye.

      She’d pulled the pen from between her teeth. “I’m making a list for myself. Traits for the perfect man. That way, if I follow the list, I’ll marry someone I’m compatible with. Guaranteed happiness. No surprises. You should make one, too.”

      Niall’s eyes widened. “No. It’s not necessary. I—”

      Her hand had fallen on his tensing biceps. “Please, Niall. I need to get my mind off my parents. Plus, you should find the right person someday, too. We can share our lists after, okay?”

      Yet somehow they’d only gotten around to hearing her list—all fifty traits and her rationale for each. They’d talked until curfew, not wanting to waste a minute before her mother and brother, who’d been away at football camp, arrived the next day and separated them. It hadn’t been until he’d stood beside her car, her bags in the trunk, that a thought had struck her.

      “You never shared what was on your list.” Her flip-flops had traced a figure eight in the sandy soil. For some reason, she’d felt self-conscious. When she’d peered up at him, his eyes had slid from hers.

      “There wasn’t much to read.” He’d rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight from one foot to another.

      “I’m going to miss you,” she’d blurted, then dropped her eyes when his startled gaze had met hers.

      “Me, too. But we’ll call and see each other when you visit your dad in Brooklyn. I—” But whatever he’d been about to say had been lost when her mother had laid on the horn and Chris had given them a wolf whistle out the window, making her blush. They were just friends, yet somehow it’d felt as if they’d outgrown that term the night before, sitting by the lake.

      “I’d better go. Goodbye.” Too embarrassed to hug him in front of her family, she’d simply waved and dashed to the car. As they’d backed out of the drive, she’d noticed Niall swiping his eye, as though he’d gotten something in it.

      It was one of her most vivid memories, along with holding his hand during his father’s funeral the following year. They’d gone through so much together. Maybe now, at last, they’d talk about what’d happened in the war and comfort each

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