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He nodded slowly and then looked down into his coffee. He lifted the mug and took a sip. “I’m guessing you can’t see me in the future, then.”

Cassie met his eyes, understanding the question, and then simply shook her head. He nodded, accepting her answer and all that it implied, and his eyes drifted away from her.

“Right,” he said.

When he looked at her again, blue eyes running over her face, overher clothes, she could almost see his train of thought:How old are you? How long do I have?

“I wanted to tell you some things,” she said. “Oh god, I’ve thought about this for so long, what I would say if I ever saw you again. All things I never got to say.”

Her gramps spread his hands out. “I’m here, Cassidy. Just talk to me.”

“I just wanted to thank you,” she said after a moment, feeling the tears return to her eyes, the burning at the back of her throat. “You gave me so much, you gave me everything. You were the best dad I could have had. The best parents. And I’m sorry I never got to tell you.”

He pursed his lips slightly, avoiding her eyes, awkward in the face of her open emotion. “I know, Cassidy,” he mumbled. “I know all of that.”

“I traveled!” she said, suddenly seized with the subject. “All over Europe!”

His eyes sparkled with interest, sunlight on water. “Yeah, where’d you go?”

“All over!” she said, bubbling with enthusiasm. “France and Italy and Great Britain. I saw all the museums and the works of art and the old buildings.”

He shook his head slowly. Then, almost a whisper: “You are a beautiful woman.”

“Gramps,” she muttered, feeling uncomfortable herself now.

“I always knew you would be,” he continued. “You look like your grandmother. I see a bit of your mother too, in your eyes.”

Cassie said nothing to that, realizing that this was his moment to enjoy, his future he was staring at.

“I work in a bookstore,” she said.

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me. You love your books.”

“I got it from you,” she said. “Every night, after work, a book until bedtime.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

She watched him, remembering features of his face she had forgotten—the crinkle of his eyes, the color of his hair—but she saw that he was becoming uncomfortable under her gaze. He glanced down at his food growing cold in front of him.

“Eat,” she encouraged. “I’m so sorry, I’m interrupting your lunch break.”

He gave her a disapproving look, but he lifted his burger and took a bite and started to chew, watching her all the while.

“I should tell you...” she said, the words coming out before she had thought about them, even though she knew this was always the point of the conversation.If I can tell him about his illness, maybe he won’t die.But she hesitated, unsure how to raise it.

He frowned as he chewed. Cassie glanced over her shoulder to where Drummond sat in the booth, watching them without expression. He hadn’t told her not to. He hadn’t told her anything bad would happen. If anything he had encouraged her.

“Who’s that?” her gramps asked, seeing the look.

“Nobody.”

“Is that your boyfriend?”

“God, no!” she said, horrified. “Give me some credit.”

“All right,” he said, grinning and shrugging apologetically at the same time. “I don’t know what passes for handsome.”

She put a hand on his arm again, leaning into the table. “I need to tell you about what happens.”