“Precisely,” Nelson said as Wallace rolled his eyes.
Hugo glanced at Wallace. “But it’s not like you’re thinking. I wasn’t lying when I said it’s not meant to be a slight against you. Think of it more as a … an outline.”
That certainly didn’t make him feel better. “Written by whom? And don’t say some esoteric bullshit like the universe or whatever.”
“The Manager,” Hugo said.
That stopped Wallace cold. “The Manager. The being you’re all scared of who makes decisions on a cosmic level.”
“I’m not scared of—”
“How does he know about me?” Wallace asked. “Was he spying on me?” He looked around wildly as he dropped his voice. “Is he listening to everything I’m saying right now?”
“Probably,” Nelson said. “He’s kind of a voyeur like that.”
Hugo sighed. “Grandad.”
“What? Man’s gotta right to know that a higher being watched him poop or drop food on the floor and then pick it up and eat it.” Nelson peered around his chair. “Did you pick your nose? He saw that too. Nothing wrong with it, I suppose. Humans are gross that way. It’s in our nature.”
“He didn’t,” Hugo said loudly. “That’s not how it works.”
“Fine,” Wallace said. “Then I’ll just see for myself.” He was surprised when Hugo didn’t try to stop him from picking up the folder. Surprised, that is, until he discovered that he couldn’t pick it up. His hand passed right through the folder to the counter underneath. He jerked his hand back before trying again. And again. And again.
“Let me know when you’re done,” Hugo said. “Especially since I’m the only one who can pick it up and see what’s inside.”
“Of course you are,” Wallace muttered. He sagged, hands flat against the counter.
Hugo reached for him again. It was happening more and more, as if he kept forgetting that he and Wallace couldn’t actually touch each other. He paused, one hand above Wallace’s. Wallace wondered what his skin would feel like. He thought it would be warm and soft. But he’d never find out. Instead, Hugo rested his hand between Wallace’s, tapping his pointer finger. Wallace’s own fingers twitched. Mere inches separated them. “It’s okay,” Hugo said. “I promise. Nothing bad. Your file said you were determined. Hard working. That you didn’t take no for an answer.”
A month ago, that would have pleased Wallace.
Now, he wasn’t so sure.
“I’m more than that,” he said dully.
“Glad to hear you say that,” Hugo said. “I think so too.” He picked up the file from the counter, flipping it open. Wallace attempted to lean in nonchalantly but ended up falling through the counter. Hugo eyed him above the top of the folder. Even his eyes were smiling.
“I dislike you immensely,” Wallace said, feeling rather petulant as he stood upright.
“I don’t believe that.”
“You should.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Jesus Christ,” Nelson muttered. “Of all the obtuse…” Whatever else he had to say trailed off into mumbling under his breath.
Mei appeared down the stairs, dressed smartly in the same suit she’d worn to Wallace’s funeral. She brushed her hair off her face. “I mean it about those muffins, man. If I come back and find they’ve burned, there’ll be hell to pay. Who have we got now?” She plucked the file from Hugo and began to read, eyes darting back and forth. “Huh. Oh. Oh. Well. I see. Interesting.” Her brow furrowed. “This … isn’t going to be easy.”
Wallace glared at Hugo. “You said you were the only one who could touch it.”
“Did I?” Hugo asked. “My bad. Mei can too.”
She grinned at Wallace. “Saw yours. Lots of good stuff in there. Question: Why did you think wearing parachute pants was cool in 2003?”
“You’re all terrible people,” Wallace announced grandly. “And I want nothing more to do with you.” And with that, he went back to pulling down the chairs, refusing to even glance in their direction.
“Oh no,” Mei said. “Please no. Anything but that.” She shoved the file back into Hugo’s hands. “All right. Number two, here we go.”
“Make sure you don’t show up three days late,” Wallace said. “Heaven forbid you do your job correctly.”
“Aw,” Mei said. “You do care. I’m touched.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Hugo’s cheek. “Don’t forget about—”
“The muffins. I know. I won’t.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, hugging her close. Wallace wasn’t jealous. Not at all. “Be careful. This one isn’t going to be like the others.”
Wallace didn’t like how worried he seemed to be.
“I will,” Mei said, hugging him back. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Wallace turned to tell her that the number of people who showed up at a funeral was not indicative of the value of a person, but Mei was already gone.
The clock on the wall resumed its normal pace, the seconds ticking by.
“I’ll never understand how any of this works,” Wallace said.
Hugo’s only response was to laugh as he turned and walked through the kitchen doors.
* * *
The tea shop was busy all day. Since he was down Mei, Hugo never stopped moving, barely having time to acknowledge Wallace, much less answer more questions about what was in his file. It irritated him, though if pressed, he wouldn’t be able to explain why.
It was Nelson who cut through the heart of the matter, much to Wallace’s dismay. Wallace was lost in thought, sitting on the floor next to Nelson’s chair. “He’s not going to forget about you just because someone new is here.”
Wallace resolutely didn’t look at him. He stared into the fireplace, the flames snapping and popping. “I’m not worried about that at all.”
“Right,” Nelson said slowly. “Of course you’re not. That’d just be preposterous.”
“Exactly,” Wallace said.
They sat in silence for at least ten more minutes. Then, “But if that’s what you’re worried about, don’t. Hugo’s smart. Focused. He knows how important this is. At least, I think he does.”
Wallace looked up at him. Nelson was smiling, but at what, Wallace didn’t know. “The new person coming here?”
“Sure,” Nelson said. “That too.”
“What are you talking about?”
Nelson waved his hand dismissively. “Just rambling, I suppose.” He hesitated. “Did you love your wife?”
Wallace blinked. “What?”
“Your wife.”
Wallace looked back at the fire. “I did. But it wasn’t enough.”
“Did you try your hardest?”
He wanted to say yes, that he’d done everything in his power to make sure Naomi knew she was the most important person in his entire world. “No. I didn’t.”
“Why do you think that was?” There was no censure in his voice, no judgment. Wallace was absurdly grateful for it.