Page 77 of For Eva

November 7, 1990

Denise,

So my dad and step-whatever-she-is finally found time to drive to the city and meet Aaron last Saturday! You know I met his parents back in August, so it was way overdue, but there was always some reason—they couldn’t get a babysitter, their kid had a gymnastics something or another and they had to watch her do fucking cartwheels…blah, blah, blah. Anyway, we went to dinner and of course, they love him. Because what’s not to love? My dad was practically doing cartwheels himself when he found out Aaron’s an attorney and not a musician. Now I just need YOU to meet him! So…when’s that gonna happen? COME SEE ME!

Speaking of visits, I’ll have you know I wasn’t acting “weird” (as you called it) on the phone about Eric wanting to come to Chicago. I’m just, like, what’s he gonna do? Sleep on the pullout couch while Aaron and I sleep in my bed? And before you say that’s exactly what you would do, please remember you are my best friend and female. Of course, you’re probably much too busy with your lover to come to Chicago. Why so secretive about that, by the way?

Write me ASAP!

XOXO,

Eva

THIRTY-NINE

Eva

November 1990

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard American Flight 734, nonstop from Nashville to Chicago. We’ll be pulling back from the gate shortly, so please buckle your seat belts, ensure all items are stowed properly under the seat in front of you, and your tray tables and seats are in an upright position.”

I flipped up my tray in accordance with the flight attendant’s instructions, placing theRolling StoneI’d picked up in the airport gift shop on my lap. I flipped mindlessly through the pages until I spotted a picture of Eric holding a framed gold record, Keith and the rest of his band surrounding him. I smiled and let out a tiny squeak.

“Hey, isn’t that the guy from the band you used to work for?” Aaron pointed to the picture, and I startled, clearing my throat.

“Huh? Oh yeah, I guess it is,” I said, bringing the magazine closer to my face, pretending to examine the photo. “Looks like he got a gold record or something.”

Aaron nodded. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah.” I closed the magazine and shoved it in the seat pocket in front of me.

“You ever talk to those people anymore?”

“No,” I said quickly, the hairs on my arms standing on end as if I’d shocked myself.

Why did I lie to him? Why do I turn down the volume on the machine whenever he comes over just in case Eric calls? Why do I erase Eric’s messages so there’s no chance of him ever hearing them?

He motioned toward the magazine. “Yeah, that scene was no good for you. I know that guy’s supposed to be sober now or whatever, but let’s be real—how long is that gonna last?”

His words pricked at my heart, and I tightened my fists. I wanted to tell him how hard Eric had worked. That he went to 12-step meetings almost every day. But instead, I shrugged and stared out the window.

Aaron is my life now. Not Eric.

“So,” he said, lacing his fingers through mine. “Our first Thanksgiving together was good, yeah? My sister said she was impressed at how her kids took to you.”

“Well, they’re cool kids,” I said, shifting my eyes from the tarmac. “I think your niece might grow up to be a punk rock girl. She kept wanting to try on my Doc Martens.”

“Laura really liked you, too.”

“Your sister is so nice, she probably likes everyone.”

“Not true,” he said, squeezing my hand. “I mean, yes, she’s nice, but she doesn’t likeeveryone. She did think it was funny you didn’t understand grits, though.”

“Sorry. Never had a true Southern breakfast before, I guess,” I chuckled. “I’m kinda surprised she said good things about me, honestly. I didn’t know if I quite…fit inwith your family. I mean, it was one thing to meet your parents in Chicago, but to be with them in your hometown…”

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

I sighed and turned toward him as the plane lurched, pulling back from the gate. “I mean, your mom and sister took me to the nail salon, and the first color I reached for was dark purple. But I put it back because they both chose light pinks. And then when we went shopping, they bought cardigans at these really nice stores, and all I wanted to do was find the thrift shop to see if anyone had donated any cool old band T-shirts.”

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