“Of course,” he said, propping the old bear on the bureau.
“Nice,” Ali said, nodding her approval.
Just then, there was a light knock on the door and a good-looking young man with short chestnut-brown hair peered in the room. “Mason?” he asked.
Mason smiled. “You must be Pat.”
“I am,” Pat said, coming into the room and shaking Mason’s hand. “I guess that roommate algorithm colleges use decided we might be compatible, so we’re bunking together.”
“Guess so,” Mason said, laughing, and then turned to introduce Ali.
“Nice to meet you,” Pat said, smiling. “Do you go to Georgia Tech, too?”
Ali shook her head, but before she could say a word about Emory, Pat’s parents were bustling into the room with their arms full of boxes and a flat-screen TV. After more introductions, Mason asked if they needed help.
“That would be awesome,” Pat said. “We have a carload.”
Mason eyed Ali, knowing she needed to head back. “All right,” he said. “I just have to walk Ali to her car. I’ll grab some stuff on my way back.”
“Thanks!” Pat said. “Nice to meet you, Ali.”
Mason and Ali were quiet as they walked across the parking lot. She unlocked her car and opened the door to let the heat out.
“Thank you again for everything,” Mason said with the crooked half smile Ali loved. “I really don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Oh, you’d manage,” she teased, laughing. “Wing and a prayer, right?”
“Right . . .” he said, searching her eyes, “but usually with your help.”
Ali smiled. “Oh! I meant to ask you—did you send a friend request to your . . . I mean Maeve yet?”
“No, not yet. I was going to last night, but after going to the car cruise, I forgot.”
Ali nodded. “That was fun. Everyone loved your car.”
“It was fun . . . and it was really nice of your parents to treat,” Mason said, remembering how Mr. and Mrs. Harrison had insisted on paying for their cheeseburgers and milkshakes at the diner—they’d even paid for Jeff’s and his wife Holly’s dinner.
“My parents loved it, too. My dad said to remind you that if you need someone to go over to the house and start the engine, or even take it for a spin once in a while, he’s your man.”
“I know,” Mason said, laughing. “Jeff said the same thing, and I might just take them up on that. It’s not good for a car to sit.”
Ali nodded. “My mom also said the preemies are going to miss you.”
Mason smiled. “I’m going to miss them, too.”
“Well, anyway, don’t forget to send her a friend request.”
“I will. . . . I mean, I won’t.”
Ali rolled her eyes. “Promise?”
Mason nodded, smiling at the idea of yet another woman making him promise. “Yep, tonight. I promise.”
“Okay, good, because I think she would really—” But before she could finish her sentence, Mason leaned down and softly kissed her.
“Wow,” she whispered. “Where’d that come from?”
“I don’t know,” he said innocently. “Was it okay?” he asked, smiling shyly.
“It was more than okay,” she murmured, kissing him again. Then she pulled back. “You better go help Pat and his parents unload their car, or they’ll be all done.”
He nodded. “Text me when you get home.”
“You’ll be in your meeting.”
“Text me anyway,” he said, and then he kissed her again.
“Okay,” she murmured, feeling slightly breathless.
“Promise?” he said, walking backward.
“Promise,” she said, laughing, and then he turned and trotted toward the dorm, but before he went in, he turned again and waved.
Ali smiled and waved back, her heart swelling with the possibility and promise wrapped up in his sweet kiss.
48
“HOW WAS YOUR SNICKERDOODLE?” MAEVE ASKED, AS SHE WALKED DOWN the empty porch, picking up napkins and glasses and putting them on her tray.
“It was delish,” Bud said, leaning back in his chair. “I had two!”
“I saw that,” Maeve teased. “I hope you saved room for dinner.”
“I did,” Bud replied, “but I have to agree with Gladys: ‘Meatless Monday is B.S.!’”
Maeve laughed. “Oh, it’s not that bad. Sal makes a mean veggie lasagna.”
“I don’t think those two words belong in the same sentence, never mind in the same baking dish.” As he said this, he leaned down to pick up a napkin that was under the chair Aristides had been sitting in, but which was now occupied by Tallulah. He set it on the pile on Maeve’s tray. “Any updates on Ivy?” he asked.
She sat down next to him. “Her son came by to pick up her hearing aids and he said she opened her eyes.”
“Wow! That’s great!” Bud exclaimed.
“It is,” Maeve agreed, “but he said she’s not out of the woods yet. I wanted to ask him about the other boy in the photo, but I didn’t think it was the right time . . . at least, not right now.” She paused. “He must’ve been important to them, though, if they kept the photo all these years.”
Bud nodded. “I was trying to remember more about him. That photo was taken in the summer of 1941 . . . the summer before Pearl Harbor, and after that, every young man I knew either enlisted or was drafted. I’d be willing to bet Will was no different.”
“Do you think Ivy got pregnant . . . and he was the father?”
“It’s possible—like you said, there must be a reason that photo is so important to them, but I think they should’ve cropped me out,” he added, laughing.
“Do you remember the circumstances of the photo?”
“Oh, we were all just having fun—there was a whole group of us kids, and Will and I had just competed in a back-and-forth contest . . . kind o’ like Gage and I did the other day.”
Maeve nodded. “I wonder what happened to him.”
Bud pressed his lips together. “We lost a lot of good men in that war.”
Maeve shook her head. “That would’ve been incredibly hard for her back then—getting pregnant, possibly out of wedlock—and raising her son all by herself.”
Bud nodded. “Takes a lot of courage to do that.” He eyed her thoughtfully. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, Maeve . . . and please tell me to mind my own
