Page 104 of For Eva

“And I’ll be here all week, so we can do this again, right? Or maybe we could go to dinner? You probably already have plans for New Year's Eve, but if you don’t, I’m free.”

She lifted her eyes—staring through me or past me, I couldn’t tell—and my heart stopped.

Shit. Had I officially crossed a line this time? Was she going to say no?

“Yes,” she answered, finally fixing her eyes on mine as a wide grin spread across her face. “I mean, no, I don’t have plans, and yes, I’d love to go to dinner. Because I can’t make up for nineteen years over one cup of coffee.”

We may not have been able to make up for the lost time over a cup of coffee, but seeing the way she looked at me made up for every moment I’d spent missing her.

FIFTY-SEVEN

Eva

December 2008

“Wait—Will and Angela havehowmany kids?” I took a sip of my wine and set the glass back on the wooden table.

Eric had pulled some strings and gotten a last-minute reservation at one of the quaintest restaurants in town for New Year’s Eve, complete with candlelit tables and a fireplace. When I’d pushed the wine menu aside, he’d insisted I order whatever I wanted, assuring me his years of sobriety wouldn’t be shattered by me drinking a couple of glasses of wine in his presence.

“Four,” he said, cutting into his steak.

“Jesus. Was that on purpose?”

He chuckled. “I think so. Hard to believe, huh?”

“Incredibly. I hit my limit at two, but good for them. I always liked Will. And Angela. I’m glad they’re happy.”

“They liked you, too. I ran into them not too long after I talked to you on the phone and told them I was going to see you. They made me promise to say hello.” He tipped his water glass at me and grinned. “So, hello, Eva.”

“Well, please tell them hello back. And let them know how impressed I am that they deal with four children on a regular basis.”

“I’ll make sure to pass along the message. And maybe you can see them if you ever come out to LA.” He paused and cleared his throat, swiping a black cloth napkin over his mouth. “Do you, uh, ever do that?”

The warmth of the fire crackling across from us and the wine I’d just imbibed swirled with Eric’s words, causing my chest to flush.

Did I ever visit LA? Of course, I did.

I’d been out to see Denise more times than I could count. But admitting that meant I’d been in the same city as Eric and deliberately decided not to see him. Even though he’d asked me to before we—I—lost touch. Before he’d climbed his way back up to rock star status. Before I let his last letter go unanswered, stuffed it away in a shoebox, and disconnected my phone.

I took the last sip of wine, thankful for the dimly-lit restaurant, as the flush spread to my cheeks. “I try to visit Denise from time to time. You remember her, right? My best friend…old roommate…”

“Right. Short brunette. I think she threatened to kick my ass once.”

“Sounds accurate.”

“Well, next time you’re out, you have to let me know.” His eyes held mine over the flickering candle in the middle of the table. “I don’t want to lose touch again.”

My eyes darted down to my plate, my face catching fire once again.

What do I say? How do I explain to him why I ended our friendship all those years ago when I can’t explain it to myself? When Iwon’texplain it to myself?

“I know I’ve said I’m sorry, but I really do owe you an apology, Eric,” I said, finally looking up. “For disappearing on you. I think I was just afraid that…I mean, I think I was afraid you didn’t need me around. That I was a reminder of your past.”

Lies.

“Or maybe I got busy with my own life and was a shitty friend.”

At least part of that is true.

---