He unwrapped one of the coins and took a mouse-sized bite. "I always told her that when I got better I'd take her out for coffee." He looked away. "It was lame in retrospect, but it was just something I always heard adults say in movies. The man is always like, "Hey maybe sometime we could grab a cup of coffee." And the woman is always like, "Yeah that sounds nice." And then ten minutes later they're married and having a baby."

I smiled at him. "Truscott, I don't want to be the bearer of bad news, but I don't think that's how it works in real life."

He looked at me as he rolled another coin between his hands.

"Well . . . how did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Make Everly fall in love with you . . . how did you do it?"

I treaded carefully. "How do you know she's in love with me?"

His bit his cheek. "Because she gave me something of hers. I wasn't . . . you can't tell her, okay? I know it was wrong." He took a breath. "I read her journal. She . . . talked about you. A lot."

"Friends don't spy on each other, man."

"I know," he said regretfully. "But I also know Everly-how her mind works-and I think she wanted me to read it, so I'd know she and I were just a dream." He raised the mug. "But she still kept her promise. We have 'coffee' together all the time."

All the cogs clicked at once. "You're the reason she steals the suspended coffee orders . . . aren't you?"

"You mean the Token of Faith coffees?"

"Sounds like something Everly might say . . . sure."

"She thinks we're all connected-that everything each person decides becomes a link to another life." He exhaled, lowered his head to his pillow. "She said somewhere in the world my heart waited for me, and all we needed to do was the find the carrier. So one day she comes in here all excited saying she saw some girl put a jar for free coffees in her cafe, but it wasn't really just one day, it was my birthday, and she made me make a wish that one of those tokens were meant for me."

"How would drinking coffee get you a new heart?"

"Everly likes signs and symbols," he explained. "Like the dictionary, that's like her mom, Merriam, because it's like a teacher or some crap. I don't know. Anyhow, the coffees aren't coffees, it's her way of 'seeing' a sign because my dream was to get well and take her out to have coffee, AKA date her, marry her . . ." he waves me off.

"So she's following the sign?" I guessed.

"Something like that. Yeah."

"I see," I said quietly.

He fell quiet too, and I carried out my actual duties as his doctor. Before I left the room he asked me, "Do you?"

"Do I what, Truscott?"

"Love her. Do you love her back? Like she loves you?"

I sat on the edge of his bed. "Do you still have Everly's Journal?"

He stared at me perplexed, but nodded. "It's between the mattress."

I dug around until I felt the binding against my fingers. The pages fanned as I rolled them against my thumb. I held it up as proof, showcasing the slender width.

"Even if every page in this book was filled out front and back with thoughts of me, it would only be a fraction of how much I think of her, Truscott."

________________________.

* : "Come and take them"

THE GAME CHANGER.

Christmas Eve had always been an unpleasant time for my family. My father hides in his room all day, Marta stays busy cooking food no one except her church friends will eat, and I take a bouquet of flowers to my mother's grave and sit in my car until the sun sets.

Marta was on course as I entered the kitchen that morning. She had every burner working, pots filled to the brim bubbling with homemade marinara, lasagna noodles, ham in the oven and fresh rolls set out on trays. Cookies lined one section of the counter.

"Did you sleep?" I asked. She jumped at the sound of my voice and turned.

"Good morning Callum."

"It um . . . it smells good in here. How long have you been cooking?"

"I told the church I'd take over Mrs. Rossinburg's cookie duties on account of how troublesome Andrew has been. So . . . I've been here a while." She smiled tight and then went back to work.

"Do you want . . . I mean, I don't know shit about cookies other than I love them . . . but . . . maybe I could help somehow. If you want."