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“We did. He agreed to give Naltrexone a try.”

“Naltrexone… that’s a drug for alcohol use disorder.” Her tiny nose wrinkles. “Doctors rarely prescribe those. They’re super controversial.”

“Rarely is a far cry from never. I’m taking what I can get here.”

She doesn’t argue with me. If anyone knows how hard I’ve tried to help my dad—apart from Gray—it’s Ruby.

We’re just about to leave when I see Remington Key struggling across the lawn with his four-year-old daughter Lillie.

“Hi, Remi!” I give him a wave, and his face only partially relaxes.

Remington’s really handsome for a single dad, light brown hair and warm hazel eyes, athletic physique. He moved to Oakville from Seattle when he married Sandy Burnside. Or Sandy Key. Her name always made me think she should be a mermaid.

Anyway, I’d heard he’d made a mint in the tech industry. I’m not sure if it’s true, but when he came to me for grief counseling and advice for talking to Lillie about her mom’s death, he never had a problem paying his bills.

“Hi, Drew.” He manages to get Lillie onto his hip, but she’s twisting, trying to get down. “How’s your family?”

“Oh, you know.” I don’t want to talk about it. “Have

you met my friend Ruby? She works with me now at the clinic.”

He gives her a short glance, adjusting Lillie on his hip, then I notice he does another, longer look.

My eyebrows rise, but my bestie is looking away, scanning the church lawn for God knows what. “Ruby.” I elbow her in the side, and she jumps back to the present.

“Sorry. Hi… Remington.” She is clearly not impressed.

I want to give her a good shaking. After all the drips she’s dated, here’s a possibly rich and stable hottie standing right in front of her. Granted, he has an insanely wiggly preschooler on his hip.

“Nice to meet you, Ruby. Is your family Korean?”

Even better… he knows his Asians! I try to give her an encouraging smile, but she could not be less engaged. “Yeah, my great grandpa moved here in the fifties.”

“When I was in Seattle…” His voice trails off as Lillie manages to break free. “Sorry. It was nice meeting you.”

He takes off after his escaped child, and I cross my arms, doing a little huff. There went a definite possibility, and he looked really hot in that expensive suit.

“Are you ready?” Ruby is impatient.

“Sure. Let’s go.”

We make the short drive to her house, and when we step inside, the delicious aroma of Asian cuisine touches my nose.

I get excited. “Did she make the broccoli I love?”

“She always does.” Ruby pretends to be disgusted. “You’d think she was your mother making all your favorite dishes.”

“Your mother’s food is like art. It’s almost too pretty to eat.”

Ruby’s nose curls. “So it’s like that. Kissing up to my mom?”

Mrs. Banks steps out of the kitchen. “Drew! I’m so happy you came for lunch. Come help me.”

Ruby’s mom never changes. She might spoil us, but she also makes us work for it. I’m happy to comply. It makes me feel like I’m part of a family again, even if it’s only Ruby and her mom.

Twenty minutes later, we’re sitting around the table passing dishes of kimche, a bowl of soup, and my favorite, a platter of round sticky dumplings nestled beside tart pickles and zesty fish sauce.

I spoon three onto my plate, but I hate to eat them. The bite-sized nuggets have smooth coverings and bright orange sprinkles of toasted shrimp flakes on top.