Page 76 of The Now in Forever
I grab my bag and head for the bar. After being cooped up in the house all week, I deserve a treat. It’s already happy hour, so the hummus plate will be half off. I venture past the office downstairs to see if Robin wants to come, but the door is shut and I can hear voices beyond it—hers and tinny ones coming from Zoom.
It’s beautiful outside, sunny but breezy. Not too hot. I contemplate sitting outside, but not for long. I go on autopilot to my usual spot in the corner at the bar. Kyle isn’t here, but I order my hummus plate andan iced tea from Darla. Pulling out my phone, I scroll to Instagram again, going immediately to Ed’s profile. Nothing new. But this time I keep scrolling down, back in time. Lots of books. Bookstores, Ed hiding behind the cover of friends’ novels, book signings. As I go further back, scrolling through the years, there’s more skateboarding, still a ton of books, and then I stop. A side shot of Ed. He’s in profile because his face is directed at the blonde girl next to him. Her smile is taking over the frame, big soft pink lips, pearly white teeth, mouth wide open as Ed’s nose presses into the side of her face.
A book slides across the bar, and I practically drop my phone. It’sIn the Woods.
“I loved it.”
My mouth drops. “You already read it? The whole thing?”
“Yeah. It’s great. I’m on to the second one.”
Kyle’s pulled away by another customer. He pours them a beer then comes back.
“What’s your book about?”
I shrug.
“Is it like this one?”
“No one writes like that except Tana French. She’s the best.” I finish my iced tea, and Kyle makes eyes at it, silently asking if I want another. “Actually, I’d love a glass of red wine.”
Smiling, he picks up one of the bottles that is way too expensive, especially if I really want to sink all my money into the store. I quickly add, “House red is good.”
He shrugs. “This one’s already open. On me. So, what’s your new book about?”
“Love and time.”
He leans on the bar, his brown eyes sparking. “Tell me more.”
And I do. I tell him all about June and Sam. He asks me my thoughts on the bookstore, but I swiftly change the subject because the truth is I have no idea what to do. We talk and talk until the bar is too busy for Kyle to chat with me anymore. He keeps getting pulled away to pour beers or bring people food. I close my tab with Darla.
Before I leave, Kyle yells out, “Wait.”
I check my phone. Shit. It’s 5:36, and I have one missed call from Ed.
There’s a big line at the bar. I wave. “I have to go.”
Out the door and down the lane, I run to the house. I try to call Ed back, but my FaceTime won’t connect. My flip-flops smack on the asphalt. Once I’m in the house and my phone links to the Wi-Fi. I try again.
The screen comes to life, the phone ringing and showing me my own face as I wait. Cheeks flushed from the run and the wine, my blue eyes bright, and my hair looks like it was styled by the wind of a convertible. It’s so frizzy from the humid bar and my run down the road. I try to smooth it down a bit, when Ed answers.
“Hey, there you are,” he says, and I wonder if he’s annoyed I didn't pick up on the first ring.
“It’s nice to see your face.” And it is. He looks handsome, with just a light dusting of dark stubble on his square jaw. His green eyes are covered in sunglasses, and the jostle of the phone tells me he’s walking. “I can’t talk long. I’m headed to drinks with the director and the actor he’s thinking of for the main part.”
“Oooh, who is it?”
“Technically, I’m not supposed to say, but he played Elvis and his name rhymes with cutler.”
“No, Austin Butler. Wow. That’s very cool. How’s it been?”
“Amazing. It’s fast. Everything in publishing moves so slow, but this has been like bam-bam-bam. Lots of meetings.”
I want to know when he’ll be back, but I don’t want to be the one to ask.
“What have you been up to?”
I shrug and think about telling him about the bookstore or the interviews I’ve had recently. The one for the private school in Portland was yesterday over Zoom. But I don’t. It feels like opening up a bigger conversation about the future that I’m not ready to talk about. Or, more accurately, I don’t think he’s ready to. “Writing, running, reading. Same ol’, same ol’.”
