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“At the Morris farm, down the road. You’d always be eating more than you picked for Chef Henry.”

Vague memories of wooden logs covered in the large fungi start to emerge, then comes a memory of Rémy, with his golden hair shining in the light through the trees, standing so close beside me as we pick mushrooms from the same log. I remember teasing him with one, holding it up to his face, daring him to take a bite and him scrunching up his nose at it, shaking his head before I bite off the top, and he laughs.

“I remember now. I was allowed to eat as many as I wanted if I picked them, but you don’t even like mushrooms. What did you get out of going all those times?”

A flutter of something sweeps across me as he flashes me the same youthful smile I now remember so well.

“Time with you.”

A flash of heat rises to my face.

“I can’t believe I forgot so much of this place,” I say, turning my attention to the plate.

“It’s been a long time between visits.”

Lilah joins us, tapping her wrist where a watch might normally sit.

“Have you got table seven’s order up yet?” she asks.

“Just finishing off the eggs,” he says, and she starts collecting the plates that make up the rest of the table’s breakfast from beside us.

“Do you want help?” I ask, but she shakes her head.

“It’s nice seeing you sit there. Jack used to spend his time in the kitchen, too. That was his stool, and he was the only person allowed to sit in here.”

Rémy flips the eggs, then turns back to me.

“You still don’t remember why you stopped coming?”

“No, not really. I mean, Mom and Jack had a fight, but that’s all I remember. Then there was college and baseball.”

“Your uncle loved watching you play,” he says, passing the finished plate over to Lilah, who has three balanced on one arm. Impressive.

“He loved the dancing, too,” Lilah says, leaving us to deliver her order.

My shoulder throbs, and I roll it back a couple of times to try to ebb the ache.

“It was so much fun, the best job in the world.”

“Maybe that’s why your uncle left this place to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“So that you would have to come back and remember you had fun before there was baseball, so maybe you can have fun again.”

I reach over and pick up a slice of mushroom.

“I’ll tell you what, you eat this, and I’ll agree tothinkabout not selling my half.”

He scrunches up his nose just like he did in my memory of him, and it’s just as adorable now. How did I ever forget him? He takes the slice from me between two fingers and holds it up.

“You promise?”

“Yep. All you have to do is eat it. Oh, and chew and swallow it, no spitting it out.”

His disgusted look gives way to a smug smile, and he pops the thing in his mouth, chews with a devilish grin, then swallows without even the slightest pause.

“What the fuck?”