4 months later

The bell goes off as I push the doors open to the café, trying to stifle a yawn. My eyes sweep over the finished mural of Hien, Lanh, and the original figures of Vietnam. I can't help but smile at how good it turned out. Not just because the artwork is amazing if I do say so myself, but because it really does match the vibe of the last book in the series so far: melancholic but hopeful. A sense of apartness but also of potential unity.

"Hey, Marlowe," Everett calls, coming out from the back room with a box in his hands.

I smile, giving a sleepy wave. "Hey."

He chuckles as he sets the box on the counter with a thud. "Staying up late now?"

I nod, crossing my arms and resting them on the countertop. "It's not like I have to get up for school now that I've graduated."

"You still have to get up early for work, though."

I wave him off. "I work for you. I'm basically a nepotism baby. I can take naps and do whatever I want." Everett gives me a pointed look, but before he can tell me off, I gesture to the box. "What's this for?"

Instead of responding, he opens the flaps to reveal at least twenty copies of the last book in The Quiet Nights series, Thundering Daybreak. Not what I was expecting, but I'm also not surprised. Ever since the book was released, there's been a list of people wanting to get their hands on it and annotate their thoughts. It's definitely a good idea to have more copies on hand. I'm sure all of these will be checked out by the end of the day, though.

"Do you want me to put these into the system and shelve them?" I ask, already walking around the counter to the other side before Everett can say anything.

"If you're not too tired," he laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

I make a face as I turn on one of the computers, making him laugh again. As it dies down, my own smile wavers. I slowly ask my usual question: "Any sign of Gareth yet?"

Everett performs his part, his smile sobering. "No. But speaking of which, I should probably go sit out there and see if he ends up coming by."

It's too far into spring to be cold, but I still suggest that he stay inside to wait. "Save yourself from skin cancer."

His smile marginally returns. "I'll come in if it gets too sunny or anything, Marlowe."

I huff, pulling the box towards me. "I'm holding you to that."

He starts to respond, but the phone in the back room goes off. Everett excuses himself and goes to pick it up. While he does, I focus on giving each book a new barcode and inputting it into the system. Right when it starts to become monotonous, my phone rings. I'm caught between smiling and frowning when I see it's Idris.

I never mind it when he calls me, especially considering it seems like he needs someone outside of his family to talk to. Roman never quite blew up at me again like he did months ago, but sometimes he would give me exasperated looks and roll his eyes even when he knew I was looking. I can only imagine how he acts with Idris when no one else is around. I doubt Idris actually tells me everything that happens in his family, but whenever he wants to reach out, I'll always be here. He's basically my little brother at this point.

I pick up the phone and put it on speaker. I'm just about to greet him when he blurts, "Are you done with the book?"

I pause, staring at my phone. "I have like two chapters left."

He sighs. "I just finished and I wanted to talk to someone about it."

I laugh, processing the last of the books and placing them back in the box. "It came out like five days ago."

"And I can't believe it took me that long to finish it." I can hear the scowl in his voice as he adds, "And I can't believe you're not done with it yet."

I scoff. "I was busy graduating high school." He grumbles, making me roll my eyes. "You can still tell me what you thought about it." I heft the box in my arms and swipe my phone off the counter as I head for the shelf against the wall opposite the mural. "Just don't spoil anything for me."

That's enough for Idris to start gushing about the book. I try not to laugh at the excitement in his voice and the way I can just imagine him pacing, waving the book around in the air. But I do have to pause when he mentions how he's upset that Hien and Hai never got to reconcile with their parents before they died.

"I was kind of hoping for an apology scene," Idris admits, his voice jarringly quiet after minutes of ranting.

I nod slowly like he can see me, carefully shelving the books. "Yeah..." I glance at the back room where I can still hear Everett's voice drifting through. "Me too." I look down at my phone. "But at least Hien and Hai are kind of making up."

Idris hums, and I hear something creak on his end. "I guess, but I feel like I would've been happier if they made up with their parents." He sighs. "I mean, if the entire series is based on the Vietnamese myth that everyone is one family even if that family ends up being a little broken—"

"A lot broken," I correct.

"—then shouldn't their parents have apologized at some point before they died?"

I hesitate. Idris does know some of Everett's story, but it's not my place to fill in the details or to interpret Gareth's writing for him. "Yeah. I guess. But I think this way, there will be more of an open ending, right? I think I generally like those better than definitive ones."

Idris hums. "I guess... I still would've liked to hear an apology, though."

I'm sure Gareth wants to hear one, too. And he would get one if he just fucking came here. "Me too, kid."

His voice comes out a little more softly as he says, "Maybe parents just don't apologize..." A pause. "Hai didn't apologize for all the things he put Hien through, either..."

I tighten my grip on the book in my hand, pressing it down on the shelf. I'm almost surprised the shelf doesn't snap off the case altogether. I take a deep breath and start to ask Idris how things are at home when the bell above the door goes off. I try not to roll my eyes.

I turn, ready to tell the asshole that just because I'm in here doesn't mean we're open. But the moment I see who it is, I drop all the books in my hands. Even when they hit the ground with a cascade of thuds, I don't take my eyes off the person standing in the doorway. I've seen his picture more times than I can count on the back of book jackets, but seeing Gareth Chiem in the flesh with his vibrant amber eyes that remind me so much of Everett's is another experience entirely.

He blinks, his eyes widening. Before he can say anything, I fumble for my phone and manage to tell Idris that I'll call him back, hanging up before he can properly respond. Or if he did, I have no idea, because Gareth Chiem is standing right in front of me.

"Hi...?" he finally asks. "I'm—"

"Gareth Chiem," I finish for him. "I know. Big fan." Wait... What am I doing? No time for a fan freakout. "Are you here to see your dad?"

He straightens. "Oh. You know my dad?"

I nod. "He was good friends with my grandpa."

Gareth nods back. "Is he here? My wife told me if I didn't find him back at home then he'd be here."

I nod my head vigorously. "He was about to go sit outside and wait for you. He's been doing that for like the past thirteen months." Gareth flinches, and I immediately hold up my hands, palms out. "Sorry. Am I being aggressive? I don't mean to be aggressive. Or passive-aggressive. Everett's basically like my own grandfather and I know he loves you and I know he's sorry for everything, but you should hear that from him, not from me." I take a deep breath. There's a slight lull, and I find myself whispering, "Did I mention I'm a huge fan...?"

Gareth laughs, nodding. "Yes. And it's always nice to meet a fan. But I'm really here to see—" The door to the back room swings open. Everett stands framed in the threshold. He stares at Gareth, his mouth slightly agape. Gareth lets out a breath, his smile slipping. "Dad... Hey..."

Everett blinks a few times like he thinks he's seeing things. He visibly swallows and tries to smile at his son. "Hey, Gareth."

Gareth wrings his hands, looking at anything and everything except his dad. To my... maybe horror, maybe dream come true... Gareth's eyes settle on the mural. I can't see his expression, but after a moment, he stops fidgeting and looks right at Everett.

"Can we talk?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Everett nods. "Of course."

Gareth glances at me. "Alone? In the back room maybe?"

Everett nods again. He steps aside to make room for Gareth to squeeze past him. Gareth pauses for a split second at the threshold, and I think he might hug his dad. But in the end, he slips by without a word. Everett doesn't move, staring at a point on the door jamb.

I carefully step over the books on the floor to stand next to Everett, putting a hand on his arm. "You gonna be okay?"

He swallows. "What if he doesn't forgive me?"

"I think him being here is a step towards forgiving you. That's something. And you won't know until you talk to him."

Everett nods. He swallows, but it looks like there's more resolve in his eyes now. "Thanks, Marlowe. For everything."

I nod, giving him a hug. "Tell me how it goes later?"

He returns my hug. "Of course."

I pull away, giving him an encouraging smile. He nods, shutting the door to the back room. I grab my headphones from my bag and turn up the volume in case I hear something I shouldn't. As I go back to shelving the books, my mind flickers between Hien and Hai, Idris, and even Gareth. Through it all, a single strand of thought follows me: if things don't work out between Everett and Gareth... can anything be fixed?