Saturday morning, she woke up feeling more nervous than she had anticipated. Her stomach was in knots, and she couldn't get her makeup right due to her shaking fingers. She couldn't find the right outfit. Everything was going wrong. She didn't know why she was feeling this way. He'd made it perfectly clear it wasn't a date. Just two friends hanging out on a Saturday afternoon. Totally innocent. But her hair wasn't sitting right, and the dress she chose had a hole in the armpit, so she had to choose something else. Everything was falling apart, and it wasn't even ten in the morning.

Right around noon, she heard a knock on her front door. He was there. Right on schedule. She gave herself one last check in the vanity mirror in her bedroom, making sure she looked halfway decent (and that there were no holes in the dress she finally settled on). Then she got up and ran to the living room to open the front door. He was standing just outside, and he didn't look any different than he usually did. Another sign it wasn't a date. She wasn't sure if she should be disappointed or relieved.

He smiled, and she couldn't help noticing how his eyes quickly scanned her up and down. Maybe he was checking her out? "Hey! You ready to go?" She nodded her head, giving him a smile she hoped didn't reveal how nervous she was actually feeling. "Great. Should we take the car or just walk?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I guess if we're reliving a day in the life of young Emersyn, then we should walk. I never drove to the ferry. I'd either walk or bring my bike."

"Great," he said, grinning. "Then looks like we're walking. I mean, if that's okay? I don't have a bike here."

"Sure, that sounds great," she said, closing the door and locking it behind her. Then she turned back to him and said, "All right, let's roll."

He walked with her to the port, where they bought two tickets for the 12:30pm ferry. She tried to pay for the tickets, but he just shook his head. "No way. I invited you out. You're not paying for anything."

She smirked, feeling her stomach flip like an Olympic gymnist. "Thought you said this wasn't a date?"

And there it was. It happened so quickly that she would've missed it if she'd blinked. But for just a moment, there was something in his blue eyes. A small hint of embarrassment. Why? Ugh, she wished she could crack open that head of his and get a look at all his inner thoughts. "It isn't a date," he replied, as he slid his hands into his pockets casually. "But I'm still buying. Where I come from, the person who extends the invitation is the one who pays."

She rolled her eyes. "That is such crap," she replied, but she was smiling. He paid for the ferry tickets, and they had a great time enjoying the view. The sun was out, but it wasn't too hot. Perfect weather to spend the day in Port Townsend. There was a jigsaw puzzle of a bunch of exotic animals sitting on one of the tables inside, and they sat across from each other trying to see who could put together the most pieces. By the time they pulled into Port Townsend, the puzzle was almost done. They left the rest of the puzzle on the table and headed out.

Port Townsend looked just as she remembered it. There were people walking down the streets, checking out all the shops. Zeke was particularly fond of an old cutlery store. She found out that he had a big knife and sword collection at home in Oklahoma. He told her all about it, and every so often she could hear a little bit of a southern drawl in his voice. It was so unbelievably adorable that she caught herself smiling every time she heard it. He bought a pocketknife with a Damascus steel blade, which he seemed thrilled about. He also purchased a book on local wildlife from the bookstore, and she could tell he was excited to start learning more about the types of creatures he could discover on the island.

It was around two in the afternoon when they started getting hungry. She told him he could pick anywhere in town to eat and she'd go, but he insisted they go to her favorite spot in the city. So she took him to Mini Italy, a restaurant she'd gone to a thousand times over the years with her friends and grandparents. She'd had her fifteenth birthday there. The last birthday she'd spent with her grandma. Her heart ached when she walked in, wishing she'd known then that it would be the last one. She would've held on longer. Maybe stayed for dessert.

"Okay," Zeke said as his eyes scanned the menu. "This place definitely does not fit in with my diet." His lips quirked as he flipped to the second page, and Emersyn knew she shouldn't be watching him so closely. But the way his eyes focused so intently on the menu did something to her. She wondered how she would feel if he looked at her like that.

Get a grip, Emersyn, she scolded herself, pulling her eyes away from him and going through her own multi-paged menu. "The eggplant parmesan is pretty good. And it's a vegetable, so it's not too bad for you, right?"

He glanced up from his menu and gave her a little grin. "It's not as healthy as you might think," he said. But then he folded his menu and set it down in front of him. "But it looks like it's the best thing on here, aside from a salad. And that just does not sound appetizing right now."

She tilted her menu down so she could look at him. "We don't have to eat here. We can go anywhere else if you—"

But he just held up his hand and shook his head. "No. This is great. Perfect, actually. I live on that diet all the time, so it's not a big deal if I deviate now and again. Just don't let me go too nuts, okay?" He leaned forward and whispered, "Whatever you do, do not let me order the tiramisu."

She giggled softly and was thrilled to see that megawatt smile blossom across his face at the sound.

"That sounds delicious. So no promises."

He shook his head. "Devious," he said, glaring at her playfully. If she didn't know any better, she'd swear he was flirting with her. But no. He told her it wasn't a date. Just friends. She really needed to settle down.

The server came a couple minutes later and took their orders, then left them alone to listen to the Italian music playing softly in the background of the restaurant. She scanned around, looking at a painting of a vineyard somewhere in Tuscany that was placed on the wall directly behind Zeke. It was silly, but she wanted to look anywhere but at him. Every time she locked eyes with him today, she felt like her heart could sprout wings and fly away. He just did something to her. Something no one else had ever done before. And no matter how many times she reminded herself that he wasn't interested, she couldn't let it go.

A few minutes of silence passed as Emersyn continued to stare at the painting. Then Zeke leaned back and said, "So listen. I don't mean to bring up touchy subjects. But how have you been dealing with things? You know, with the mom thing? You guys getting any better?"

Emersyn shook her head, surprised he'd brought the subject up. "No. I actually haven't heard from her at all since that day. Which I'm okay with." A lie, but she didn't want to get into it with him. Or with anyone. She mostly wanted to put the whole thing out of her mind. Forget it had ever happened... forget the past few years had ever happened... and just move on.

He gave her a sympathetic smile. "Yeah? You guys aren't close, huh?"

She shook her head. "No." She reached for a piece of bread that their server had left on the table and started pulling it apart nervously, shoving a tiny piece in her mouth so that she seemed normal. He was still watching her, expecting more. So she sighed and said, "My mom hasn't really been around much. I was raised by my grandparents. My dad's parents."

He nodded his head. "So you're not close with your dad either?"

She took another bite of bread and looked away. "My dad... died. In a fire. A long time ago. I don't really remember him."

"Sorry," he said, adjusting a bit in his seat. Whether it was the southern accent or just the softness in which he said it, she didn't know. But he sounded so sincere. "I didn't know."

She shrugged. "It's fine. You know, I actually used to tell people in Seattle who would ask about him that he and my mom were just divorced. People know how to react to divorce. But you tell them your parent is dead, and it's like they lose the ability to speak. Nobody really knows what to say. And after a while, you just get tired of hearing the pity in people's voices when you tell them."

Now he reached for a bread roll. "That makes a lot of sense. So your dad died when you were young. And your mom just... wasn't around?"

"My grandma used to tell me this old story. About how, in Greek mythology, they believed that man used to have four arms, four legs, two heads, and one heart. But Zeus, the King of the Gods, believed that this made man too powerful. So he split man in half. Right down the middle, so that each half had two arms, two legs, one head, and half a heart. And so man was destined to search for his other half for the rest of eternity."

Zeke smiled. "That's a really awesome story."

"Yeah," she said, smiling wistfully as she remembered all the times her grandma would tell that story. That old journal popped into her head. Her mom's infidelity, among other things, had been haunting her lately. Remembering this story, while sweet, didn't help much. She just felt like it was a lie now. "And she always said that my mom and dad were soulmates. From the very beginning. So when my dad died, my mom lost the other half of her heart. And the half that was hers just didn't beat the same way. So she left, because she couldn't handle the loss that she felt. My mom was always drinking or doing drugs in the city. I actually didn't hear from her for twelve years. And then my grandpa died when I was eleven. And when I was fifteen, my grandma was diagnosed with Dementia."

"Oh wow," he said, as he picked at the paper sleeve from his straw. "So that's when your mom came back into your life? When your grandma got sick?"

She nodded her head. "Yeah. My grandma had to go live in a nursing home, and Kiel and social services got ahold of my mom. Apparently, she'd managed to get her life together. She went to school and got a degree in web design. She works for a small company that's run by one of her old college professors and his brother. And suddenly, overnight, she was forced to be a mom. It wasn't something she wanted. I wasn't something she wanted." The recent realization of this was still stinging her soul. "So I spent a long time trying to be someone she would want. And in doing that...."

"You lost sight of the person you wanted to be," he finished for her. She looked at her hands, feeling the burn in her eyes. "I'm sorry," he said gently. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you're here. You're a big help to me here. I really don't think I'd be able to do all this on my own. You're my best friend here, Emersyn."

She smiled softly at this and looked back up so that she was staring into his eyes. "Well, now that you know my entire tragic backstory," she said, and he grinned, "you should tell me yours. Come on, what's the story with the whole dad thing? How do you not know anything about him?"

He shrugged. "Don't know. I guess you could say that my mom is kind of the opposite of yours." She raised her eyebrows but stayed quiet. He cleared his throat and continued. "My mom is super cool. We were really close when I was growing up. She always wanted me to have a fun, happy life. And she did her best to give that to me. Would wake me up in the middle of the night with fresh batches of brownies. Pick me up in the middle of the school day just to take me to the movies. Overall, she was really fun. Here." He grabbed his wallet out of his pocket and pulled a picture from its folds. "This is a picture of us from when I was a kid."

He handed the picture to Emersyn. It was a picture of his mom and him from when he was about ten years old at an aquarium. His hair was even wilder than it was now, and his eyes were glowing with happiness. He must've gotten his bright smile from his mom, who was cheesing it up hard for the camera. She looked vaguely familiar, but after looking at Zeke again she could understand why. There was definitely a resemblance. Especially in the thick curls atop both of their heads.

"She's pretty," she said as she slid the picture back to him. He took it and returned it to its home in his wallet. "What's her name?"

He slid his wallet back into his pocket. "Ramona. But everyone calls her Mona. I don't think I've ever even heard anyone use her full name."

She smiled. "Mona is a pretty name." He grinned back at her, but she could see the sullen look in his eyes, and she could tell talking about his mom was painful for him for reasons she didn't understand just yet. "But... what about your dad? What's the story there?"

He sighed heavily, running his fingers through his wild blonde curls. "I don't know. It was kind of strange. Whenever I'd ask about my dad, she would just shut down on me. Like full on lock herself in her room for hours. Sometimes even days. So I kind of learned not to bring him up, you know? I think his death just broke her heart so badly that she couldn't even think about him without hurting. It's been years since I've broached the subject, mainly because I'm afraid of her shutting me out completely."

"So what does your mom think about this little quest of yours?" she asked, genuinely curious. He winced and averted his eyes from hers, choosing to look down at his hands now splayed out on the table. Her eyes widened. "Oh my gosh. She doesn't know, does she?"

He shook his head slowly, his eyes still glued to his hands. "No. She doesn't. Actually, there's... a lot she doesn't know. We were close once. And I love her. But I pulled away about a year ago. And I kind of haven't talked to her for closing in on eight months now."

Emersyn's jaw dropped. "Eight months?" she said incredulously, and he grimaced again. "Zeke, that's... awful. What happened? If you were so close to her growing up, why are you distancing yourself now?"

He hesitated, and Emersyn stared at him, waiting for an answer. His story bothered her more than she cared to admit. She knew what it felt like to be abandoned, and knowing he was doing that to his mom, when Emersyn would have given anything to have a mom love her like his mom did him growing up... well, she couldn't help but feel a little jealous. And confused.

"It's complicated," he said as he continued to look away. "I know how it makes me sound too. Like the biggest asshole on the planet. And it's even worse to know that she still calls me. Texts me. I send her enough replies so that she knows I'm okay, but that's it."

She shook her head. "I don't understand though. Why?"

He finally lifted his gaze back up to hers, and she felt every nerve in her body awaken at his piercing stare. "Because I need answers from her, but I'm too afraid to ask. Last time I tried, she shut down for three days. Three days of her locked up in her bedroom alone. I was fourteen years old, Em. A child. And I had to steal money out of her purse to buy food, because she couldn't get out of bed long enough to figure it out herself. For three days, I didn't even know if she was alive in that room. I didn't know anything. And it made me mad. It still makes me mad. I deserve answers. I need them. And if she won't give them to me, then I'm going to get them myself."

"But why here?" she asked. "If you're from Tulsa, why did you travel all the way to Coupeville to find him?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "It was the only thing she ever told me. I was the love child of a brief but passionate affair that happened in Coupeville, Washington when she was sixteen years old. So I figured, if he died before I was born, then he's probably buried on the island. Seemed like a longshot, but it was something."

"So that's why you're here?" she asked, her lips turned down into a frown. "To find answers about your dad? So you can... get to know the other side of your family?"

He didn't say anything for a second. His eyes were focused on something on the table. Then he nodded his head and said, "Yeah. Something like that."

She reached over and put her hand on his. He looked up and stared at her again, and the way his blue eyes gazed into hers sent shivers up her spine. "I'm glad you're here, Zeke. And, for what it's worth, I'm really happy to be helping you with this. I hope you find your family."

He stared at her hand on his, and for a second she thought that maybe she'd gone too far. But then he turned his hand around and intertwined his fingers with hers, making her breath hitch. Then he looked up at her, a soft smile playing on his sweet lips. "Me too. Thank you."

Their server came and brought them their entrees, and he gently pulled his hand away from hers. She stared down at her mushroom ravioli hungrily, and when she looked back up at him, she saw that he was staring at her with something different in his eyes. Something tender. Affectionate. Her heart skipped a beat. "Well," she said, swallowing nervously. "I think I'm over the tragic backstories. What about you?"

He smiled and nodded his head. "Most definitely. And I don't know about you, but I'm starting to think things might be looking up."

Was he talking about her? That look in his eyes was gone, and now he was just the same old Zeke she'd been spending hours with in the graveyard almost every day. She stuck a mushroom ravioli with her fork and held it up in a sort of awkward food toast. He did the same with his eggplant parmesan. "To our happily ever afters," she said, tapping her ravioli to his eggplant bite.

"And to new friendships," he added. She nodded her head, and they each took their bites at the same time.

They finished their meals, and Zeke insisted that he'd never had better eggplant parmesan. He also insisted that they visit the art museum next, where Emersyn's grandma still had pieces on display. She felt very torn about going to the museum though, because it had been hard enough coming home and seeing her grandma's artwork in the house. All the unfinished pieces she still had sitting in her backyard studio. But she wasn't sure how she would feel seeing her finished pieces up on display. She hadn't been to the museum in so long, and never without her grandma. She just felt sad at the idea of going there now. But Zeke really wanted to go, so they went.

It was different from what she remembered. Probably because they'd received new pieces since the last time she was there. But her grandma had her own section of the museum, so that was the place they visited first. Her heart ached at seeing all of Elsie Collins's famous pieces hanging from the walls and standing on display shelves. She remembered sitting and visiting with her while she was making some of the pieces, telling her about her day at school or what she'd got up to in Port Townsend that day. It had always seemed so casual. She missed it more than anything. She'd give the world to hear her grandma's voice just one more time.

"Hello, Goodbye," Zeke read aloud, his eyes skimming one of the small plaques under one of her grandma's more famous pieces. The picture depicted a silhouette of a couple standing just a few feet apart from each other. "Why is it called Hello, Goodbye?" he asked, staring up at the piece, his brow furrowed in concentration, as if he was trying to see something that wasn't there. But the answer was right in front of his face.

"Well, what do you see?" she asked, moving so that she was standing right next to him.

He screwed up his face even more. "I don't know. I guess I see two people moving toward each other. Saying hello? Maybe?"

She smiled. Of all the pieces in the museum, this one was her favorite. "What would you do if I told you that some people see the couple walking away from each other?" His eyes widened, and she laughed. "It all depends on perspective. Some people see the couple as saying hello. And others see them as saying goodbye. It just depends on who you are. And that's the beauty of art, right? What's seen varies from person to person."

"What do you see?" he asked, turning and staring at her. She didn't know how to answer that question. She saw something completely different than what everyone else did. She saw memories of happy moments filled with love and compassion. Of afternoons sitting in her grandma's studio, eating chocolate chip cookies and drinking lemonade as her grandma's brush slid gingerly across a semi-blank canvas. Her long silver hair pulled back by a frayed bandana. Her tongue between her teeth as she focused on getting the colors of the paint just the way she wanted them.

"I see goodbye," she said finally, frowning as she took a small step away from the painting. "But I've had a lot of goodbyes lately."

He nodded. "I guess that makes sense. I've had a lot of hellos." She looked at him, and he was staring at her with a strange intensity. Her cheeks grew warm, and she didn't understand how it was possible that one look from him could make her feel so much. And then he gently nudged her elbow with his and said, "You were my favorite hello."

Why were tears burning her eyes now? She took a step away from him, and another step away from the painting. It hurt too much to look at it. To look at everything in the art museum. It felt like she was surrounded by ghosts. "I'm going to go outside. But you can continue to look if you want."

"Hey," he said, frowning again as his eyes scanned her up and down, as if checking her for any sort of visible damage. "Are you okay?"

The tears. They were going to spill this time. She wasn't going to be able to hold them back. She tried taking a few deep, calming breaths, but it didn't work. One slipped out. And that was it. She was done. Something had broken inside of her. Snapped, finally. And she was bawling in the middle of what used to be her favorite art museum, because it held pieces of her favorite person. But now they were ancient relics of a lost time, and she was breaking down in front of this guy who she really liked but didn't know how much until he just asked her if she was okay.

He wrapped his arms around her, and she sobbed into his shoulder. Ugly, painful sobs. And looking back, she couldn't remember crying like this ever before. She'd had to hold the tears in when she first found out about her grandma, because she was around her mom. And she didn't want her mom to see any cracks in her. Any signs of weakness. But in this moment, she finally felt like it was okay to let it out. And while she did, Zeke held her to him, not saying anything as she released everything she'd been feeling for the past year. Every ounce of loss and grief just oozed out of her. She didn't know how long they were standing in the old art museum. It felt like it could've been days. But he didn't move until she did. And for a fraction of a second, she saw hello in the painting too.

Chapter Fourteen

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