‘ Ah. Close enough. I’ m sorry you never came back to the group, but you look good. Thin.’
‘ It was the I’ m-too-depressed-to-eat diet,’ I said.
Brie shook her head. ‘ I wish that would happen to me. I eat when I get upset. And when I get mad. Or stressed. Or if I’ m happy. I eat then, too.’
Norma swallowed a bite of her pie, then said, ‘ I hear you there. And Marissa dying so soon after she lost the weight-it was so sad. The group took it pretty hard. We had a couple meetings that were less about food and more about the process of grieving. Poor Buddy took it the hardest. He-’
I nearly choked on my drink. ‘ Did you say Buddy?’
Sebastian glanced up. ‘ Who said Buddy?’
‘ I did,’ Norma said, clearly startled. ‘ I was telling June how Buddy took Marissa’ s death especially hard. He’ s in my Weight Watchers group, and he and Marissa were quite-’
Sebastian cut her off. ‘ His name isn’ t Buddy Fitch by chance, is it?’
‘ I do believe his last name is Fitch. Why-do you know him?’
I couldn’ t believe it. I’ d been searching everywhere for this guy, and I never thought that he might be one of the Weight Watchers group. I may have even seen him the night I went for my one and only meeting. The last thing I wanted to do was face those people again. But if I had to, I would. I’ d be able to finish the list. ‘ I want to meet him,’ I said. ‘ Does he still go to the meetings?’
‘ Not since he reached his weight goal,’ she said.
‘ Oh no.’ I couldn’ t hide my disappointment. But they probably had records. Of course they did! I’ d be able to-
‘ But if you want to meet him, it’ s no problem. He’ s here.’
Sebastian slapped his hands on the table so hard that it made our drinks jump. ‘ Get outta town. Here?! In the bar?’
‘ Well, yes. When Kitty Jones invited me, she said to go ahead and extend an invitation to anyone I wanted.’
‘ He’ s here,’ I said, stunned. Buddy Fitch was here. ‘ Where?’
Norma gestured toward a man standing with his family. ‘ Over there. Here, I can take you to meet him. Let me go get my-’
I didn’ t even wait for her to finish. Here was my chance to complete the list! Oh, I hoped he’ d confess to whatever misdeed he’ d visited upon poor Marissa. If not, I’ d do whatever it took to drag it out of him.
‘ That was a great speech,’ he said when I approached. He was a husky man with thinning red hair and a square but friendly face.
‘ Thanks,’ I said, and then got right to the point. ‘ Are you Buddy Fitch?’
‘ Me? Nah. Name’ s Peter Fitch.’
My spirits sank, but then a kid’ s voice said, ‘ I’ m Buddy.’
I gasped. ‘ You’ re Flash!’ I said right as he pointed to me and said:
‘ Now I remember who you are! You’ re the lady from the race!’
‘ You’ re Buddy Fitch?’ How could the nice kid from the race possibly have hurt Marissa? There must be a mistake. ‘ I need to talk to you a minute,’ I said, leading him away.
‘ You still running?’ he asked, settling into a chair behind a giant potted fern where I thought we could get privacy.
I gave him a guilty look and admitted I’ d done it only for the list. ‘ Speaking of which,’ I said, unfolding it, ‘ maybe you can explain something to me.’ I showed him #7: Make Buddy Fitch pay. ‘ You have any idea why Marissa would write the one about making you pay?’
‘ Sure. She and I had a bet. When I joined Weight Watchers, I had thirty pounds to lose. I wanted to get on the track team, and one day when I sat next to Marissa, I told her I bet I’ d never make it. She bet me I would, and we put money on it. She promised that she’ d help me train.’
Unbelievable. ‘ So it was literal. Make you pay.’
‘ She came to run with me a couple times after school before she& um& Anyhow, I didn’ t quit. I kept running.’
‘ How much did you bet?’
‘ A dollar.’
I leaned close so my eyes were level with his. ‘ So I guess what I need to know is, did you make the track team?’
‘ Yep.’
‘ In that case, Buddy Fitch’ -I extended a hand, palm up-’ pay up.’
#7. Make Buddy Fitch pay
SOON AFTER I brought the list back to the table and crossed off the last item, my friends gathered to leave.
‘ I’ m so lucky to have all of you,’ I said, overwhelmed with emotion. It was finally sinking in that I’ d finished the list. Mere minutes earlier, I’ d thought I still had a long way to go. ‘ I could have never completed the list if it hadn’ t been for your help.’
There was much murmuring of ‘ You’ re welcome’ and ‘ Glad to do it,’ until Martucci said, ‘ Don’ t start blubbering all over me, Parker. This is a new shirt.’
‘ Are you going to give back the list?’ Susan asked.
I nodded. ‘ That was always the plan: that I’ d return it as soon as I was done. I was starting to fear that it might never happen.’
‘ It did-and on time,’ Sebastian said warmly. ‘ It must be the writer in you& can’ t miss a deadline.’
