Copyright 2018 by Colleen Hoover

Oh. Okay. My mind was going somewhere much more sinister with that. For
a second, I thought he’d murdered the turtle intentionally.
“We could let him go right here in the grass,” I tell him. “That way you can
watch and see which direction he crawls. He might lead you to his secret turtle
family.”
Crew picks him up out of the bucket. “Do you think he has a wife?”
“He might.”
“He could have babies, too.”
“He could.”
Crew puts him down in the grass, but naturally, the turtle is too scared to

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move. We watch him for a while, waiting for him to come out of his shell. I can
see Jeremy approaching out of the corner of my eye. When he’s closer, I look up
at him, shielding the sun from my eyes with my hand.
“What’d you two find?”
“A turtle,” Crew says. “Don’t worry, I’m not keeping him.”
Jeremy shoots me an appreciative smile. Then he sits down next to Crew in
the grass. Crew scoots closer to him, but when he grabs Jeremy’s arm, Crew
pulls away. “Gross. You’re sweaty.”
He is sweaty, but I don’t really think it’s gross.
Crew pushes off the grass. “I’m hungry. You promised we could go out to
eat tonight. We haven’t been to a restaurant in years.”
Jeremy laughs. “Years? It’s only been one week since I took you to
McDonald’s.”
Crew says, “Yeah, but we used to go out to eat all the time before my sisters
died.”
I watch Jeremy’s shoulders tense with that comment. He said himself that
Crew hasn’t mentioned the girls since they died, so this moment feels
significant.
Jeremy breathes deeply and then pats Crew on the back. “You’re right. Go
wash your hands and get ready. We’ll need to be back before April leaves
tonight.”
Crew rushes toward the house, forgetting all about the turtle. Jeremy watches
him for a while, his eyes full of thoughts. Then he stands up and reaches out a
hand to help me up. “Wanna come?” he asks.
He’s asking me to a friendly dinner with his child, but my wistful heart
responds like I was just asked out on a date. I smile as I brush off the backs of
my jeans. “I’d love that.”
•••
I haven’t had a reason to make an effort with my physical appearance since I
arrived at Jeremy’s house. Even though I still didn’t make much of an effort
before we left, Jeremy must have noticed the mascara, the lip gloss, and the fact
that my hair is down for the first time. When we arrived at the restaurant and he
was holding the door for me, he said quietly, “You look really nice.”
His compliment settled in my stomach, and I can still feel it, even though
we’re finished eating. Crew is sitting on the same side of the booth as Jeremy.
He’s been telling jokes since he finished eating his dessert.
“I have another one,” Crew says. “What is E.T. short for?”

---

Jeremy doesn’t attempt to answer Crew’s jokes because he says he’s heard
them a million times. I smile at Crew and pretend I don’t know the answer.
“Because he has little legs,” Crew says, falling back into his seat with
laughter. His reaction to his own jokes make me laugh more than the jokes
themselves.
And then, “Why don’t they play poker in the jungle?”
“I don’t know, why?” I say.
“Too many cheetahs!”
I don’t know that I’ve stopped laughing since he started telling us jokes.
“Your turn,” Crew says.
“Mine?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s your turn to tell a joke.”
Oh, God. I’m feeling pressure from a five-year-old. “Okay, let me think.” A
few seconds later, I snap my fingers. “Okay, I’ve got one. What is green, fuzzy,
and if it fell out of a tree, it could kill you?”
Crew leans forward with his chin in his hands. “Ummmm. I don’t know.”
“A fuzzy green piano.”
Crew doesn’t laugh at my joke. Neither does Jeremy. At first.
Then, a few seconds later, Jeremy releases a burst of laughter that makes me
smile.
“I don’t get it,” Crew says.
Jeremy is still laughing, shaking his head.
Crew looks up at Jeremy. “How is that funny?”
Jeremy puts his arm around Crew. “It’s not,” he says. “It’s funny because it’s
not funny.”
Crew looks at me. “That’s not how jokes are supposed to work.”
“Okay, I have another one,” I say. “What’s red and shaped like a bucket?”
Crew shrugs.
“A blue bucket painted red.”
Jeremy squeezes his jaw, trying to hold back his laughter. Seeing him laugh
is probably the best thing that’s happened since I showed up here.
Crew scrunches up his nose. “You aren’t very good at telling jokes.”
“Come on. Those were so funny.”
Crew shakes his head, disappointed. “I hope you don’t try to make jokes in
your books.”
Jeremy leans back in his seat and grips his side, trying to hold back his
laughter as the waitress approaches with the check. Jeremy takes it from her.
“My treat,” he manages to say.
When we return to the house, Crew makes it inside before we do. “Run

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upstairs and let April know we’re back,” Jeremy calls after him.
Jeremy closes the door that leads into the garage, and we both pause before
moving farther into the house. We’re tucked away into an unlit corner near the
stairs, but a stream of light from the kitchen streaks across his face.
“Thank you for dinner. That was fun.”
Jeremy pulls off his jacket. “It was.” He’s smiling as he hangs his jacket on a
coat rack next to the door. He looks different tonight, like he’s less weighed
down by his life than he usually is. “I should get Crew out more often.”
I nod in agreement, slipping my hands into my back pockets. The next few
seconds fill with thick silence. It almost feels like that moment at the end of real
dates when you can’t decide between a kiss or a hug.
Of course, neither would be appropriate in this case because it wasn’t a date.