How do you tell someone the worst news of her life?
If you are Lucy’s mom, you take the someone to her favorite restaurant, Fannucci’s, wait until dessert, and then, when the someone’s mouth is full of apple pie and ice cream, you say, “Ash, Lucy doesn’t know how to tell you this, but at the end of the summer we’re going to be moving to Oregon.”
At first I felt really bad about spitting pie into Lucy’s mom’s cappuccino, but later, the more I thought about it, the more I decided she deserved it.
Her one sentence ruined a lot of stuff for me—my friendship with Lucy, Fannucci’s, summer, the state of Oregon, and now even just thinking of apple pie kind of makes me gag.
April 17 was two months ago.
It was the last time I was filled with joy.