Page 109 of For Eva

Better than me sitting on the bed, tears streaming down my face, asking Aaron over and over again what I’d done to make him want to break our family apart.

“So,” she began, dragging out the word. “When are you gonna see him again so you can make up for the hug you gave him when he was clearly trying to stick his tongue in your mouth?”

I pressed the heel of my hand against my forehead in an attempt to banish the awkward moment from my thoughts. “He didn’t…Fuck. I don’t know. I don’t know what happened, and I don’t know when I’ll see him again. He had to go back to LA today.”

She groaned.

“But honestly, Denise, we’re friends.Maybethere was a little, I don’t know…sparkor something. But I’m sure it was just that whole feeling-young-again-when-you-see-someone-from-your-past sort of thing.”

“Uh-huh.”

“No, really,” I insisted. “I think he got confused or something. Or maybeIgot confused.”

“I know you were married for seventeen years, but I don’t think you’ve forgotten what it looks like when someone’s trying to make out with you.”

“You know what? I should’ve never told you this. It wasnothing, Denise. I’m sure of it.”

Am I?

“Eva,” she began. “Do you not realize you’ve been on cloud nine since the day that man called you?”

“Oh, it was just a little bit of excitement in my life. Famous rock star wants to see me. Doesn’t hate me for being a terrible friend. It was a sort of…closurefor us.”

“Ormaybethe beginning of something brand new.”

“Please,” I said, waving my hand in the air. “He’ll probably go back to LA and find some model or actress and forget all about last night.”

My chest tightened at the thought.

“You and Aaron have been separated for a year now, babe. It’s okay to have feelings for someone else.”

“I don’t havefeelingsfor him. We went through some really heavy things together. And we were close once. But…”

I thought about how I’d laid in bed the night before, tossing and turning, wondering what would’ve happened if I hadn’t freaked out and pulled him into some stupid hug. How I’d snuck outside at 2 a.m. in my pajamas, my coat pulled tightly around me as I chain-smoked and recalled all the times I’d thought about him over the years—memories triggered by magazine covers or songs on the radio. How I’d popped out of bed that morning and rushed to the attic to try to find the shoebox. The letter.

“But what?” she asked.

“But nothing,” I said, sighing. “We’ll probably send the occasionalHi, how are you?email, and that’ll be it.”

“We’ll see,” Denise said. I pictured her staring at me through the phone with one raised brow.

“All right, I’ll leave you and your imagination to run wild,” I said, throwing my legs over the side of the bed. “I’ve got to go fix the kids’ breakfast.”

“Okay, just be sure to call me as soon as Eric sends thatI’ve loved you for nearly twenty yearsemail.”

I smiled and shook my head. “You’re insane.”

She chuckled. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I dropped the phone beside me and rubbed my lips together, staring at an invisible spot on the wall across from me.

Wasthat all there would be? The occasional friendly email? My insides ached at the possibility, while my pulse raced at the thought there could be something more. I closed my eyes and clasped my hands under my chin, allowing myself one last glimpse of the night before, of how good it felt to beEva. Then I pushed myself off the bed and took in a deep breath, morphing back intoMom.

FIFTY-NINE

January 2009

---