Page 119 of First Comes Forever

I turn around and Liv drops the paper menu in her hand. It rides the breeze and collides into my shin. The shocked expression on her face is more than surprise…it’s fear.

“Adam,” she says, keeping her voice steady, although she’s shaking. “I really need this job, and the owner doesn’t tolerate drama from the staff. He’ll fire a manager without hesitation. Whatever you have to say, say it, but please don’t make a scene.”

“Liv, never once did I raise my voice at you. Not even when you ripped our marriage apart. I’m not about to start now.”

Her eyes drop to her pink, closed toe wedges poking through her long, black dress pants. “Okay, I deserved that.”

I pick up the menu and hand it to her, closing the space between us. “I’m also not here to berate you. But I would like to talk.”

She looks over her shoulder into the restaurant, her nerves apparent.

“If it’s an issue, I can order something. Or if you’re that uncomfortable, I’ll go.”

“It’s not that. I just—” She sniffles, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “It’s like seeing a ghost. I never thought I’d lay eyes on you again.” She looks me up and down. “You look good.”

“So do you.”

“Hey, are you guys open?” a shrill voice from behind me asks. I don’t turn around.

“No, I’m sorry,” Liv says, looking over my shoulder. “We’re just locking up.”

“Dammit,” the woman grumbles. “This one’s closed too,” she shouts to I’m assuming her friends. “Let’s just get smoothies.”

“Come in, Adam,” Liv says, pushing the door open and holding it for me. She points to a booth toward the front of the restaurant, and once I’m seated, she asks, “Do you still have a donut obsession? Our baker makes fresh jelly donuts daily, with a berry glaze.”

“Sounds great.”

“Milk?” she asks.

“Please.”

It’s empty except for a waitress sitting at a booth across the restaurant, rolling silverware into napkins and wrapping them with paper fasteners. She’s talking to another waitress, I’m assuming, but the booth backs are so high, she’s perfectly hidden. Privacy booths are the newest trend in L.A. restaurants. You can be out in public but totally unapproachable at the same time.

Liv returns with a plate filled with donuts in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. After setting the donuts and drink on the table in front of me, she climbs into the other side of the booth.

“You know I tried contacting you for years.Literally years.Just to apologize. You changed your number.”

“When Chase’s career took off, it was necessary.”

There’s an awkward lull as she stares out the glass to our right, watching the passersby on the pier. “How’s your dad doing?” Liv asks, turning her attention back to me. “I think about him a lot.”

Liv and my dad used to be close. We were still together when my dad’s condition worsened. But when I ejected her from my life, she lost contact with him, too. I held the keys, and I locked her out of everything I could.

“Better lately. My mom and dad reconciled. She visits and cooks for him, and I swear the more she’s around, the better he feels. It helps when we’re all together. He’s having a lot of good days lately.”

Her lips part as her jaw drops. “Your mom is back in the picture?”

I forgot how shocking it is for people who knew me before. But then came Amani, rounding all my sharp corners. “My mom and I talk. We’re doing well.”

“W-wow,” Liv stammers. “I can’t believe that.That’s great. And I saw Alex in a magazine. He made some list about SoCal’s top ten best plastic surgeons—”

“Liv,” I interrupt. “You don’t have to try so hard at small talk. My family is doing okay. I hope yours is too.”

Planting her elbows on the counter, she rests her forehead in her palms. “Okay. How’d you know I was back in town and working here?”

“Mona.”

“Makes sense.” She lets out a deep exhale. “If you’re not going to rip into me, why are you here?”

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