I chuckled, not realizing I had it in me. “I think I got it.” I took a seat next to him at the bar. “Have a bourbon with me?”

“Without a doubt.” He started to get up, but Mom waved him off.

“I’ve got it.” She reached for glasses. “Wanna talk about it?”

I took a breath. “I think it’s over.”

Dad smirked. “You mean it hasn’t been over for months?”

I rested my arms on the cool granite. “I mean, I think I’ve convinced him to stay away.”

“How’d you manage that?” Mom asked as she handed us each a drink.

“I unloaded all my truth on him. I think he really believed he could just patch everything up with a little bit of time and a sentimental gesture. I get the feeling he didn’t think I was serious when I left. As if the several thousand miles between us was temporary.”

“In fairness,” Mom said, “you did come back within a few weeks.”

“Only because …” I took a breath and shook my head. “Everything just got so complicated.”

Dad picked up his drink and brought it to his lips. “And did coming back here make it less complicated?”

I took a sip, the taste familiar, comforting. “Nope. But I just faced my biggest fear. All this time, especially after Jimmy sent that horrible box, I wondered if he would convince me to forgive him. Worried that I’d see him and forget what he did. That thought scared me more than anything, but I didn’t forget. I won’t. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”

Dad raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

And we raised our glasses to his, clinked them together. And for the first time in a very long time, I felt like everything might eventually be all right.

RASPBERRY CHIP

Cooper

I STEPPED OUT OF THE elevator on my father’s floor that Tuesday morning, hands in the pockets of my slacks. The girl at the wide desk did a double take when she saw me, straightening up in her seat with a smile.

“Good morning, Mr. Moore. Your assistant called and said you’d be coming by. Your father is held up in a meeting, but he told me to send you on back to his office.”

I shot her The Smile as I walked past. “Thanks.”

I was back.

There were things in my life I could control, and I was ready to pour myself into them. I was ready for change.

I walked through the building, past cubicles and offices that grew exceedingly bigger, leading up to the room at the end of the hall. I opened the door and stepped into my father’s office. The space was bigger than most apartments in New York, with floor-to-ceiling windows around three of the four walls, located in the center of Midtown. I stood for a long moment next to his desk, looking into the city, my eyes following the lines of the buildings, windows, the streets below.

I’d spent most of my life wondering what it was all for. When you’re given everything, every opportunity, every whim, why would you work for anything? How could I decide what to do with my life when there was no need to do anything with it? I had no place in the world, not with the friends I’d had growing up, not even with the Habits crew, as much as I wanted to be a part of their world. I was hanging in limbo.

Until Maggie.

I’d always been adrift, floating through life, watching the shore from afar. But Maggie was an anchor, holding me steady. I couldn’t float anymore — I didn’t want to. I wanted to be everything for her. I wanted to prove to her, to myself, that I meant what I said. I was ready for my life to begin. I only hoped she would be a part of it.

The door behind me opened, and I turned to find my dad smiling at me.

“Hey, Coop.”

I smiled. “Hey, Dad.”

“What’s going on? Dinner cancelled last week, haven’t heard from you. We’ve been worried.” He watched me as he stepped behind his desk and set down several leather portfolios and a small stack of papers.

“I’m … I’ll be all right.”

He took a seat. “So, you wanted to see me? My curiosity is piqued — not that I’m not glad to see you. It’s just rare to see you here.”

I took a seat of my own across from him and looked him in the eye. “I’m here to talk about my purpose.”

His face softened, and he nodded at me with understanding. “Ah. That. Well, when it hits you, it’s never subtle.”

I chuckled. “Or gentle.” I leaned forward. “I’d like to work for you, if it’s possible.”

“All things are possible. I’m glad you decided to intern here in college. The board will be pleased with that and your Columbia credentials. But I have to ask, why here? Are you sure this is what you really want out of life? The hours are long and stressful. It’s no easy job.”

“I know. But this is the only place that makes sense for me. I want to be a part of this, of what you’ve done here. I want to follow in your footsteps, in Grandpa’s. It’s a legacy. It’s my legacy.”

He looked proud and touched, though his jaw was firm, his brow flat. “I’ve been waiting to hear that for a long time, Coop. But I have to ask how certain you are. I can get you a position as a financial analyst, but you’ll need to do the work, put in the time just like anyone else, work your way up from the bottom. It’s not going to be glamourous.”

“I understand. You know, when I worked here that summer, I didn’t hate it. At all. It was like the numbers, the data, it was all a pattern, a puzzle. I could see it, make sense of it.”

He smiled. “I know the feeling. If you do with the opportunity what I think you’ll do, some day, this office will be yours, just like it was my father’s before me.”

“I’m certain. And I promise — I won’t let you down.”

He folded his hands on his desk. “I’m more concerned that you’ll let yourself down.”

“I’ve done enough of that. Now I’m ready.”

He smiled. “Well, in that case, when can you start?”

Maggie

Brooke and I stood at the counter of the ice cream parlor that afternoon, bent to eye the frozen goodness from behind the double-paned glass.

Her hair was piled in a caramel-colored knot on her head, held back by an elastic headband. She snickered and pointed at one. “You should get the Billionaire.” She read off the plate. “Sumptuous dark chocolate, laced with swirls of salted caramel and decadent fudge. Only for the self-indulgent.”

I rolled my eyes and groaned. “Goddammit, that sounds so good.”

“Then get it.”

“Well, now I can’t just on principle alone.”

She shook her head and stood. “You’re a mess.”

“Obviously.”

The teenager behind the counter smiled at us, a pretty girl with braces. “Did y’all decide?”

Brooke smiled back and leaned on the counter. “I’d like a scoop of Black Raspberry Chip in a waffle cone, please.”

The girl was already reaching for a cone. “Sounds good. And for you, miss?”

I wrinkled my nose. “A scoop of Billionaire, please.”

Brooke laughed. “Ha. I knew it.”

“Waffle cone?”

“Why not.” I sighed. “Waffle’s my middle name.”

Brooke snickered. She turned to me as the girl assembled our cones. “I can’t believe you finally talked to Jimmy.” She waved a hand. “No, what I can’t believe is that it took you so long.”

“I’ve been running away from months. I’ve got nowhere to go. If I’d dealt with him in the first place, none of this mess would have happened.”

The girl passed over Brooke’s cone, and she immediately stuck her face in it. She took a break from making out with it to say, “You weren’t ready.”