ONE
Eva
September 2008
“Lucas and his girlfriend are having sex,” Denise said as an orange plastic flag signaled for me to pull forward in the school pickup line.
I chuckled, sweeping my hair off my neck, silently cursing the Nashville heat. “Aw, he’s growing up to be just like his mom. You must be so proud.”
I heard a car door shut and the jingle of keys through the phone. “I mean, you do understand, Eva, that I foundmultiplecondom wrappers in my son’s bedroom?”
I stifled a laugh. I’d met my best friend when she was only a little older than Lucas, and there was no telling all the things she’d done in her own bedroom by that point.
“Denise,” I began, clearing my throat. “He’s seventeen. This is what boys his age do when they have an eager and willing participant. So, I think you just have to be glad they’re using protection.”
“I’m going to say this to you in a couple years when you find out Drew is banging some chick, and you’re going to hate me as much as I hate you right now.”
I gasped in feigned horror. “Drew would never! He’s totally waiting until he gets married. And you don’t hate me, you love me. You always have and always will.”
“You’re right, I do. But you can bet your ass Iwillbe repeating those exact words to you.” She sighed. “When did this even become my life?”
I bit my lip. “I have no idea. But I wonder the same about my own.”
“Oh my God, Eva. I amsosorry. This isn’t even why I called. I got totally sidetracked by the whole thing with Lucas. How are you? Are things okay?”
“Yeah. I’m okay. The boys are okay. Seems crazy that it’s been almost a month since things were official,” I said, inching closer to the entrance of the school. “Also seems crazy that Aaron has barely seen the boys since then.”
“What the hell? Wasn’t he supposed to take them to that amusement park last weekend?”
“Didn’t pan out. Something came up with his girlfriend. You know, the one he knocked up.”
“I still can’t believe she’s pregnant. Jesus. When did he become such a jackass?”
“I think he’s always been one. Just took me all these years to see it. But we can talk more about that later,” I said as Miles burst through the doors of the building. “Got a kiddo about to get in the car.”
“All right, I’ll let you go. But call me tonight if you want. I’m gonna go figure out how to deal with fucking Condom-gate.”
I laughed. “Will do, babe. Love you. And thanks for checking in.”
“Of course.” Her voice felt like a warm hug through the phone. “Love you, too.”
“Hey, Mom!” Miles heaved his backpack into the SUV, then pulled himself up into the seat as I disconnected the call.
The sight of his mussed brown hair and rumpled clothes caused a smile to tug at the corners of my mouth. “Hey, buddy. How was your day?”
“Good. Mrs. Stark actually gave us a project.” He buckled his seat belt and pulled a piece of paper out of his backpack. “It’s about what we wanna be when we grow up. We have to write three paragraphs and make a poster.”
I craned my neck to check for oncoming traffic before making a quick left turn. “So whatdoyou want to be when you grow up?”
“At first I was thinking maybe I wanna be a chef,” he answered. “Like a pizza chef. Because you know I love pizza.”
I chuckled. “That I do.”
“And then I thought, no, Iactuallywant to be a baseball player. Like a famous pitcher. Because I’m really good at pitching.”
My insides turned to mush. This was one of those moments I wanted to stay with me forever. The kind I now knew to hold on to so I could remember what a sweet nine-year-old Miles had been, just in case he turned into the perpetually grumpy teenager his brother had become.
I stole another glance at him in the mirror. “So is that what you decided? Famous pitcher?”