"Oh, your father's things." She smiles softly, sitting next to Eli on the floor. "The tickets." She smiles. "God, he always annoyed me with how he saved these things. I didn't understand him."

"Why did he?"

"He wanted the memory," she tells him. "He always said, Chances are one day my memory might fade, but at least I'll always

have these. Even the crappiest movies are worth remembering!'" She laughs as Eli hands her a stack, letting her flip through

it. It's strange watching how the tickets change, the thicker paper turning thinner and cheaper as the decades stretch on.

"There are more somewhere," she tells him. "These are maybe a quarter of the collection."

"At least I know where I get my hoarder tendencies from."

"Oh." Rue puts her hand over her mouth.

"What?"

She shows him a worn-out ticket with the title Monty Python and the Holy Grail printed in large block letters. "This was the movie he took me to for our first date."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. Lord, I hated it so much, nearly walked out. And then we had an argument about it afterward. I told him I just didn't

think it was funny, and he acted like I'd spit on your grandmother or something."

"I've never heard that story before," Eli tells her. He's heard about other date nights, how they'd nearly driven all the

way to Oregon to spend time in a cabin for their fifth anniversary, and how his father had proposed—he'd gotten chemical burns

in a hot tub after a malfunction with the chlorine system and he proposed in the ER because he couldn't wait.

"I think he was embarrassed. The next day he came to my parents' place with his tail tucked between his legs, apologizing.

I didn't even make him admit the movie wasn't really funny."

"You gave him a second chance?" Eli asks.

Rue nods, her mouth a firm line.

"Why?"

"I don't know." She continues to stare at the ticket. "I just... I had a feeling, in my gut. And I trusted it."

"You could've been wrong," Eli says.

And she turns to him. "But I wasn't. If we always focused on the what-ifs, we'd get nowhere in life, Eli."

He stares at the floor. "I really fucked up, Mom."

"Yeah," she tells him calmly. "You did."

"A little sympathy might be appreciated, you know."

"Oh, honey..." She takes Eli by the shoulder, pulling him in closer. "At least you know what you did."

"I really fell in love with him," Eli tells her. "That part wasn't a lie."

"And he knows this?"

Eli nods. "I told him when I showed him the article."

"And what did he say?"

"That he loves me too," Eli repeats the words so easily. There hasn't been a day since the blowup that he hasn't thought about

them, echoing in his brain. Because he never wants to forget them, that last interaction where Peter promised Eli another

world if things could've been different.

If Eli hadn't been so selfish.

If he hadn't been a coward.

"Have you spoken to him?"

"No." Eli shakes his head. "I doubt he wants to hear from me."

His mother's hand finds Eli's hair, playing with it softly. "I wish I knew the magic words," she says. "The fix I could give

you to make things better."

"Thanks." Eli sniffles.

Rue lets out a low sigh. "If it's worth anything to you, I hope that you never give up on true love, Eli. I know this year has been tough for you, with Keith, with work, with..." Peter's name is left unsaid. "But I hope you know that you deserve to get the things you want."

"Thanks, Mom."

"You're a kind boy, you work hard, and you care a lot for others. And yes, you were selfish. And you made mistakes. You did

something that you shouldn't have. But it's not a sin to want, Eli."

"I think it literally is," he tells her. "Isn't there some commandment about coveting or something?"

"Will you hush?" Rue hisses. "I'm trying to impart my wisdom."

"Okay! I'm sorry."

Rue smiles at her son. "Maybe it makes me a dreamer, and maybe it's childish, but I believe in true love."

It's like she's kicking him while he's down.

"I've listened to the way that you talk about him," Rue says. "The way you lit up. I don't want to bring him up, but...

I never saw that in you with Keith."

"Then what do I do?" Eli can't help the tears that escape, sliding slowly down his cheeks before he can wipe them away with

his sleeve.

"You could just try talking to him again."

"Do you think it'd be that easy?"

"No," she admits. "It's not going to be easy, and that's the point, Eli. If you want something badly enough, you have to fight

for what you think is right, what you think will make you happiest."

"What if he doesn't accept it?"

Rue sighs. "At the very least, I think you owe him a sincere apology. One where you can take your time and explain yourself. You tell him in person—look him in the eyes and tell him

what you did, and that you're truly apologetic."

"And if he doesn't want to see me?" Eli asks. "Or if he doesn't accept it?"

"Then... you must respect that. It's his decision.

But if you love him, if you truly feel how you feel, then you've got to fight for him, Eli.

Life is full of what-ifs, but you can't let that stop you from chasing after what you know you want.

You should at least try to make things right. It's the least you owe him."

"Thanks, Mom..."

"We don't get to control who we fall in love with, Eli. It's a complicated, stupid, ugly thing sometimes. And yet, at the

end of the day, it's really all we have. I wasn't lying when I said you seemed so happy when you were with him."

"It was never even supposed to happen. That first date was a disaster." It feels like so long ago. "I only helped him so he'd

help me with my article."

"Maybe it started that way, but what I saw, between the two of you, that was real. I could feel it." Rue brushes her son's

hair away from his face again. "Now, I'm begging you. Get a haircut."

He tries to laugh, and a strange sound escapes his lips, a mix between a giggle and a sob as he wraps his arms around her.

"I will."

***

"Text me when you get back home so I know you're okay," Rue says from the driver's seat, watching as Eli hoists a tote bag

with Patricia's and Rose's Tupperwares full of stuffing tucked inside.

"I will. Thanks, Mom."

"Love you, sweetie." She gives him a kiss on the cheek. "It was great to see you. Let me know when you and Peter are back

together."

"Mom, please."

"I just want a son-in-law, is that so wrong?"

"Yes!"

"Fine." She blows Eli another kiss. "Bye, sweetie."

"Bye, love you." Eli steps out of the car, Rue not driving away until Eli is headed down the stairs of the BART station. He taps his phone at the ticket reader and then goes down another flight of stairs to reach the platform where he waits for the train.

With his phone in hand, he can't help himself from going to his last text messages with Peter, the reminder that it has been

weeks staring at him in the face.

Echoes from the approaching train radiate through the tunnel, the gust of wind blowing past Eli as it comes to a stop, the

door opening. Because of the late hour, the car that Eli picks is totally empty, leaving him to his choice of one of the lime-green

seats toward the back of the car.

He knows that his mother is right.

He owes Peter an apology. Something more than just words whispered in panicked desperation. He taps Peter's name, then taps

on the call button and presses the phone against his ear, knowing that if he doesn't do this now, he never will. He doubts

that Peter will answer, and the longer the phone rings, the more reality starts to set in.

If Eli were Peter, he wouldn't want to hear from him either.

"Hello?" Peter's voice comes softly.

At first, Eli can't be sure that he isn't dreaming, that he hasn't stumbled into some alternate reality the moment he stepped

into the empty train car.

"Eli?" Peter pauses, like he isn't sure how to say his name anymore. "Are you there?"

"Yes! Yeah." Eli straightens in his seat, grateful for the silence of the new BART trains. "Hey, Peter. How are you?"

"I'm fine." Peter's voice is solemn, and yet, oddly comforting. "How are you?"

"Been better, I guess."

"Yeah."

"Listen... I know that I'm probably the last person you want to hear from right now—"

The train moves again, cutting through the tunnel loud enough that even Eli knows Peter can't hear him. But he still gets the "Huh? Eli? Are you still there?"

"Can you hear me?" Eli shouts into the phone, hoping to cut through the noise. Even with his headphones in, the microphone

pressed right up to his mouth, he feels like an idiot shouting in an empty train car.

"Hold on," Eli pleads. "We're stopping."

"Eli, are you there?" Peter asks.

Eli braces himself in front of the doors, urging them to open, seemingly waiting forever before he's able to step out onto

the open platform of MacArthur Station.

"Can you hear me?" Eli asks again.

"Yeah, that's better," Peter says. "What was that?"

"I'm at the train station, coming back from my parents'."

"Oh, right, it's Thanksgiving."

"What are you doing?" Eli asks.

"Just got back from climbing. I was going to shower and go meet a friend."

"Seriously? The gym is open today?" Eli ignores the "meet a friend." Because he doesn't want to think about what that could

possibly mean.

Peter lets out a quiet chuckle. "You'd be surprised how many people want to squeeze in a workout when they've got nowhere

else to go."

Eli tries to laugh with him, but the sadness of Peter's words stings him.

"I wish you could've joined us today," Eli admits, even if it's the wrong thing to say. "My mom was wondering where you were."

A beat of silence.

"What did you tell her?"

"The truth." Eli sighs. "That I hurt you. That you're angry, and it's best that we don't see one another right now."

"I'm not angry at you, Eli." Peter's voice is firmer than Eli can ever recall it being.

Eli pauses, the words sinking in slowly. "You're... you're not?"