I spend all day Sunday and Monday working on my computer, editing Lauria’s wedding photos while exchanging texts with Ben. He tries relentlessly to convince me he should come over to give me some inspiration while I work, but I hold my ground. I can’t dive into us the way we dove off Goat Rock three years ago. This is my heart and sanity I’m protecting here.

On Tuesday, Mason walks into my office — my mom’s old office — to ask if I want to go with him, Dad, and Frank to The Dunk for lunch. I already have plans to go to The Dunk with Allie later tonight, but I can’t resist the opportunity to spend some time with Frank. I want to ask why Ben isn’t coming, but I don’t want to seem overly concerned with Ben’s whereabouts. He has a career and friends that need him. I’m no longer the center of his world.

Oof. Just thinking those words feels like a punch in the gut.

“Sure,” I say to Mason. “Just give me about ten minutes to finish saving my changes to this pic and change into something presentable.”

Mason glances over my outfit: gray running shorts and the Pride Month T-shirt with the rainbow that’s so faded the purple looks brown now. “Yeah, Pride Month’s been over for more than a week. Get with the times.”

I spin around in my desk chair to finish working on the photo in Adobe Lightroom, but I don’t hear any movement and I can feel Mason staring at me. “What?” I ask, slightly annoyed.

“Are you and Ben back together?” he asks without delay.

I clear my throat as I exit Lightroom and close the lid on my laptop. “Uh, yeah. I guess. Why?” I spin around and look at him, awaiting his answer, but he just stares at me. “Why?” I prod him.

Mason shakes his head. “I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

My mouth drops open. “Uh, last week you were the one trying to convince me I should give him another chance.”

“I don’t think I told you that. I just said that I believe he probably had a good reason to break up with you, but I don’t think that means you two should get back together, like it never happened.”

I blink a few times as I stare at him with my jaw on the floor. “Are you kidding me right now?”

He shakes his head. “I just think you need to be careful. He’s… His life is different now.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Do you know something I don’t know?”

He laughs. “No, I swear. I’m just…looking out for my baby sister, okay?”

I roll my eyes. “Sure. I’ll take your words to heart, because you always have such great advice. Like the time you told me orange juice tastes best right after you brush your teeth?”

“Hey, man. I can’t help if it you were a dumb fucking ten-year-old. But you’re twenty-four now.”

“Twenty-three,” I correct him as I get up from my desk chair. “My birthday’s not for another four weeks. And what exactly are you implying? That I’m a dumb fucking twenty-three-year-old if I take Ben back?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” he says following me out of the office into the downstairs living room. “I’m just saying that you need to be careful. That’s all.”

“Thanks,” I reply, stopping at the base of the stairs. “I appreciate that advice coming from the guy who had a one-night stand with a girl who thinks women shouldn’t legally have to work once they have kids.”

Mason shrugs. “Yeah, I stuck my dick in crazy, but it happens to the best of us. Oh, wait. You’ve never been with anyone but Ben, have you? Maybe you should actually venture out into the world before you decide you’ve seen enough of it.”

“You think I’m settling for Ben because I’m too afraid to be with anyone else? You think Ben’s the safe choice?”

He laughs at this. “Ben is obviously not the safe choice, but you act like he’s the only choice.”

“He is the only choice!” I reply, surprising even myself with the ferocity of my words. “He’s the only one I love. The only one I’ve ever loved. Does that count for nothing?”

He’s silent for a moment before a slow smile spreads across his face. “Just making sure you’ve thought this through. And clearly you have. I’m happy for you.”

I shake my head. “God, you’re such a jerk.”

“Go get dressed.”

When we walk into The Dunk at two p.m. on a Tuesday, Michelle is handing a greasy brown bag to an older gentleman I recognize as Mr. Jones, my seventh grade pre-Algebra teacher. Her face lights up when she sees us walking toward the counter. Mr. Jones walks past us without a glance in my direction, his mind on his food. He probably got his usual fried haddock and chips.

Michelle comes out from behind the counter to give Frank a big hug. “You look great, Frank!” she declares, completely ignoring his oxygen tank.

Frank chuckles. “You should tell that to my doc. The guy’s all doom and gloom with the death stuff.”

Michelle shakes her head as she pulls out a chair at the table where I normally sit to edit photos. “Have a seat. I’ll bring you the usual, unless you’re changing it up today.”

He takes a seat in the solid maple chair and cocks an eyebrow. “Do I look like I can handle change?”

She laughs and shakes her head as she looks at me. “You want some chili?”

“What do you think?”

She rolls her eyes and turns to my dad and Mason. “The usual?”

My dad takes a seat in the chair to the right of Frank. “You don’t fool with the classics,” he replies.

Mason nods. “The usual.”

I take a seat in the chair on Frank’s left side. “How are you feeling?” I ask, grabbing his bony hand.

He gives my hand a squeeze and smiles. “I reckon I’ll survive this lunch.”

“Not funny. Ben said he’s still trying to find you another caregiver. I’m happy to help if he has work to do,” I offer.

Frank narrows his eyes at me. “No, young lady. I will not have you cleaning up after me. It’s not pretty. Pretty girls should only do pretty jobs.”

Mason laughs. “If that’s true, Michelle shouldn’t have to clean the restaurant bathroom after Charley ingests her chili.”

I smack Mason’s arm. “Are you calling my friend pretty? You’d better not even think of hitting on her.”

“Chill. I was just making a joke. Even though Michelle is looking , and I think I’m old enough to date anyone I want.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you annoyed by me telling you who you should and shouldn’t date?” I reply, rolling my eyes.

“Children, children. Settle down,” my dad says as Michelle arrives with a tray of their famous fresh-squeezed lemonade. “Michelle will kick us out if we’re too rowdy.”

“Damn right,” Michelle says as she puts down the last cup in the center of the table.

I stare at it for a moment, totally baffled. It’s a baguette wrapped inside a white cloth napkin and stuffed inside a tall drinking glass. This must be something new they’re trying out. My dad waits for Michelle to leave before he picks up the glass and stares at it for a moment in awe, like it’s the first time he’s ever laid eyes on a baguette.

He shoves the glass into the air and proclaims, “A toast! To not settling for crumbs.”

I shake my head at his awful dad-joke. “You don’t eat gluten, Dad.”

He shrugs as he puts the glass down and gives the baguette a squeeze, like it’s a tomato at a farmer’s market. “It’s warm. Enjoy some bread, possum. Bread is life.”

I take a sip of lemonade and shove the glass of bread toward Frank. “If bread is life, I want Frank to have it.”

Frank smiles. “That’s sweet. But bread is not life. Actually, there are three unwritten rules of life.”

We all stare at him, waiting for him to clue us in to these unwritten rules he speaks of.

“Well, what are they?” Mason urges him on.

Frank glances around the table then shrugs. “How would I know? They’re unwritten.”

My dad and Frank give each other a high-five and Frank launches into a laughter-slash-coughing fit.

“What is the point of this lunch? Are you two testing out a new dad-joke routine?” I ask, peeling the napkin off the baguette and handing the white cloth to Frank so he can use it to catch his bloody phlegm. I know Michelle won’t mind.

“Actually, possum,” my dad replies, his face suddenly looking very solemn. “Frank wanted to chat with you, and I thought it would be best if he did it with Michelle around, you know, for support.”

I shake my head. “I don’t understand,” I say, turning to Frank for answers. “What is he talking about?”

Frank grabs my hand this time and squeezes it hard. “Kiddo, don’t get upset. I just have a favor to ask of you.”

I stare him in the eye fiercely. “I’m going to get very upset if you don’t spit it out soon. My heart is pounding right now, Frank. Don’t do this to me.”

He smiles and my chest aches as his eyes fill with tears. “My doc just gave me some bad news this morning, which is why you haven’t heard from Ben today. He’s been at the beach all day, taking his aggression out on the waves. Doc says I’ve got a couple weeks left. I’m going into hospice tomorrow. Your folks have offered to take Spidey in.”

I try to hold back the flood of tears, but all that does is prevent me from being able to breathe. I let out a hot, stale breath and cover my face as I shake my head. “I’m sorry.”

Frank places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

I use the neck of my Venice, California T-shirt to wipe my face. “I’m sorry. You go ahead. What did you want to ask me?” I say, turning to Frank and trying my hardest to sound brave. I want him to feel like I’m prepared for whatever request he may have, but inside I’m sliding away like a sandcastle hit by a swell.

“Hey, kiddo,” Frank begins. “I want to ask you to look after Ben when I’m gone. I mean, I know he can be difficult, but I… After his mom died, I wasn’t the best dad. I just… I know you’re the only one who can keep him in line when I’m gone. I’m not asking you to stay with him indefinitely. But… Ben saw me drinking a lot after his mom died. And now… I just need you to help him get sober… Please.”

I look around, thankful Michelle is in the back of the restaurant. She and Allie don’t know Ben and I are back together yet.

I sniff loudly and wipe away more tears as I nod at Frank. “I promise I’ll try my best.”

He nods back as tears well up in his eyes. “Thanks, kiddo. My son is one lucky son of a bitch.”

I laugh with Mason and my dad, but inside I’m filled with dread. Ben is going to lose his father very soon. If he loses me too, what will he have left?

Michelle arrives at the table with our salads, cocking an eyebrow as she sees me wiping the remnants of my spent tears. “Why are you crying?” she asks as she places the last salad in front of me.

I shake my head as I stand up and throw my arms around her neck. “Nothing!” I cry, sobbing into her shoulder.

She laughs as she hugs me and rubs my back. “Was it the baguette? I told my dad that was a stupid idea.”

I laugh as I let her go and look her straight in the eye. “Tell your dad he’s a genius. I’m just sad because it feels like everything’s gone a-rye.”

Michelle shakes her head. “Bread puns? Really?”

Frank smiles and nods at me as I sit down again. “Yep. One lucky son of a gun.”

I try not to spend the rest of our lunch thinking about how this is probably the last time Frank will ever enjoy a meal at The Dunk. I try not to think about the enormous burden he’s passed down to me. And I try not to think of how Michelle will react when she finds out Ben and I are back together.

Instead, I focus on savoring my meal while enjoying the company of a dying man who has always been more of a friend than a father figure, both to me and Ben. I can’t imagine how Ben is taking the news about Frank today. I’ll definitely have to check on him as soon as we leave.