“Why aren’t there any stones underneath?”
Erin had no idea why the channel setting only went three quarters of the way around. “That is a very good question. My grampa gave that ring to my grandmother for her seventeenth birthday. He would have been twenty at the time. I don’t imagine he could afford stones going all the way around.”
Pippa had a million questions—Was it an engagement ring? Did she always wear it? What did she do when he gave her a real engagement ring? How did Grandma Tea feel about the stones not going all the way around?
Erin knew her grandmother had admired a different ring in a shop window, and this one was similar, but she didn’t know whether the original one—the one Erin’s grampa presumably couldn’t afford—had stones going all the way around it. But knowing Tea, she probably was just happy to have the ring.
And to have him. They were always sappy in love.
Grandma Tea claimed the spark had never left them. Grampa definitely would have stood by Tea if she’d accidentally barfed in his lap.
Erin couldn’t imagine her grandparents in Lalitha’s observatory. Ew. Not an image she wanted in her head.
Finally, on the way home, they covered black holes and dying stars.
After Pippa and Erin shared afternoon tea, Pippa retreated to the trampoline and Erin sat on the sofa with her homework. Between feeling mad at Ben and feeling sorry for herself and worrying about what kind of social scene awaited her in Wheaton, Erin was a complete wreck.
She was unwilling to relive the Hairy Buffalo incident over and over, but she couldn’t help it. She wished the whole world already knew, so she would never need to rehash the story again. Then, perhaps, she could leave it behind her.
Pippa retired from the trampoline and joined her in the living room. “You’re staring into space, you know?”
“Sorry,” Erin said and opened her computer. Hitting rock bottom, she pored over hundreds of photos of Ben she’d tucked into a folder on her hard drive. Ben playing basketball. Ben snuggled up to her on her sofa. Ben driving her Fiat. Ben doing a keg stand. Her arm wrapped around him, holding their twin plastic cups at Lalitha’s party. That was the last one of them together.
Screw him.
Before she could change her mind, she pulled up Claudia’s contact information and fired off a few texts.
Erin: Claudia, this is Erin Cerise.
Erin: First, thanks for your kindness when I was drunk.
Erin: Second, steer clear of Ben.
Erin: What happened between us in that observatory wasn’t what it seemed.
Erin: But I was super drunk, and he didn’t treat me the way a good guy would treat his girlfriend.
Erin: It is clear to me (both from that night and from Lalitha) you deserve a good guy.
Erin: Actually, all of us deserve good guys.
“Please reply,” Erin said. As if in reponse, someone pounded on the front door.
FORTY-SIX
Through the bay window, Erin spied a grinning Hank bearing a cardboard box.
Pippa yelled, “Hank!” and let him in without consulting anyone.
“Hey, Pip!”
“Can you stay for dinner? Mum is making shepherd’s pie!”
“We can talk about that. Is Erin here?”
Erin wished Hank had either heard nothing about Hairy Buffalo, or heard everything and was already past it.
Pippa led him by the hand to the living room.
Hank bit his lip. “Hi.”
Erin did not roll her eyes, shake her head, or use a dismissive voice, as she knew she’d done in his presence in the past. She played it straight. “Hi.”
“You’re home early,” he said.
“Swim is over.”
“I know. I mean.” Blushing, he thrust the box in her general direction. “I heard.” Hank looked at Pippa, then back to Erin. “I heard you’d had a rough couple of days. I also, uh, heard that you came to New Zealand because of, um, stuff at home.”
Flames burned from her chin to her forehead. Now Hank knew all her secrets. All of New Zealand knew about the pink puke. And Ben. And the Quigleys.
Damned Quigleys.
Erin squared her shoulders. She could stand up for herself.
Hank stared at the carpet and fiddled with the metal rings hanging off his pants. “So, uh, this is to sort of cheer you up. And, uh, I thought I might continue with your tourism efforts and show you a little about Christchurch and the CBD.”
He held the box toward her again, and Erin accepted it with straight arms, as if it might be a bomb.
“I’m getting around just fine.”
He bit his lip again. “Right. I just. I go rock climbing at The Roxx a couple days a week. It might be a good way for you to meet people now that you have more time for fun.”
“I’ve met plenty of people, thanks. Swimming is over, but we still hang out.”
“Right. Well. I wrote the address inside the box, so if you change your mind. It’s 4:15 Mondays and Thursdays. Come any time. Tell Felicity I’ll have you home for tea. Only if you want.”
Pippa said, “Stay for tea today. Mum would love to have you. She’ll be home any moment.”
Erin said, “Pippa, enough. Let the guy go.”
“What is it with you? Don’t you like boys?”
If only Pippa knew. “I think I’ll finish my work in my room.”
“Want to jam?” Pip asked Hank.
“Sure, I can stick a minute.”
Erin slammed her bedroom door and threw the box on her bed. She didn’t feel like homework.
Hank’s box was full of junk food: Arnott’s Caramel Crowns, a bar of Cadbury’s milk chocolate, Hokey Pokey Squiggles, gummy bears (SCORE!), mini Crunchie bars, pineapple lumps, and chocolate fish.
She texted Lalitha.
Erin: You will never believe who just stopped by the house.
Erin: Hank.
Erin: He knows the whole story.
Erin: Lalitha?
It was Friday evening in Wheaton, like the one time a week when Lalitha could reliably text.
Erin: HELLO OUT THERE
Erin: He brought me a box of candy.
Litha: I am on a DATE, Erin. Talk tomorrow?
Well,
