Page 8 of The Now in Forever
There’s a commotion in the hall, and Nathan walks in holding one suitcase, followed by Ed holding the other.
“Nothing,” I quickly mutter.
Robin opens a door in the corner, showing me the small closet. “This house is a little quirky. The walls are super thin, so when you wake up at the crack of dawn as per usual…”
I laugh. “I’ll be quiet.”
Nathan and Ed set down the suitcases inside the room, near the door.
“Who’s in the room next door?” I ask.
Robin crooks her thumb at Ed.
He smiles—what is it about that smile?—his green eyes catching the light. “Don’t worry. I won’t blast Bowie at all hours.”
Having to hear “Golden Years” is the least of my worries.
They all head downstairs. After the door clicks shut, I kick off my Vans, flop onto the bed, and exhale all the air out of my body. This is wild. Ed is going to be living next door to me all summer. Sleeping, writing, fidgeting tatted-knuckled hands all over the place.
And yet he doesn’t seem to remember me or our perfect day together. Maybe he thinks I don’t remember. I’m the one who brought up the signing, after all. But if he didn’t remember me then, why would he now?
Maybe he had more to drink during our perfect day than I thought, or maybe he’s suffered a traumatic brain injury. Of all my theories over the years, that’s the one I go back to the most. My least favorite, and most likely, theory is none of it meant as much to him as it did to me.
Eventually, I drag myself off the softest bed in the world and unpack my clothes in the closet. Grabbing a blue towel, I get into the shower. The hot water untangles the mess of knots in my shoulders from the drive and possibly from the stress of running into Ed and having him not remember me once again.
It’s fine.
I exhale and lather my hair, the rose and ginger of my soap calming me. We’ll carry on like that day ten years ago never happened. After my shower, I take extra care with my makeup. Nothing over the top, but I want to look good,really good.
The bar is a short stroll. I take my time, enjoying the ocean breeze on my bare legs in my blue sundress that I’ve been told brings out my eyes. The Vern is busier than I expected for a tiny town bar, but itisa Friday. The inside is dark with rich wood, hanging Tiffany lamps, andred vinyl booths. In the back is a pool table and behind that a dim hallway, but I don’t see Robin, Nathan, or Ed anywhere.
The bartender finishes pouring a pitcher of light golden beer as I approach the bar. After handing it and a stack of glasses off, he comes over. His kind brown eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, black hair slicked back in a style reminiscent of Superman, a few grays salting the sides, and a nose that looks like it’s never backed down from a fight. “What can I get for you?”
“Oh, um.” I’m momentarily caught off guard. You have to actually order when you’re standing in line for a drink. “Wine? Do you have any that aren’t terrible?”
I smirk so he knows I’m joking, mostly.
“Nope, nothing but Boone’s Farm here. Gals seem real fond of the strawberry flavor, but Blue Hawaiian is half off.” His smile widens and I realize he’s kidding. “We sell local wines by the glass.”
“Oh, thank God. The summer was looking bleak there for a second.”
“I’m Kyle.” He slides an impressive wine list across the bar.
“Hattie.” I take the menu in my hands, the paper well-worn and smooth under my fingertips.
“It’s nice to meet you. Are you staying around here?”
“Yeah. Some friends and I are just down the street for the summer.”
“You’ll be in here a lot, then.”
“I’m trying to save money, so not that often.”I select a Cabernet out of the Willamette Valley, one of the less expensive ones on the list.
“Saving for what?”
My uncertain future, my lack of knowing where my next paycheck will come from. Instead of getting too deep with this person I just met, I shrug. “Life.”
“Lucky for you”—Kyle takes a corkscrew to the bottle— “tenants within a two-block radius get a discount.”
