Page 39 of When Alec Met Evie
“I could be making something out of nothing, so I don’t want you to talk to him. But thank you for letting me talkabouthim.”
“Anytime. Until you want to talk about sex, and then I’m out.”
I laugh. “Noted.”
“How’s the garbage ex-husband?”
“Ugh. Still texting,” I say. “He wants me to call him.”
“Boo. Are you going to?”
“I have no idea. What would I even say?”
“I mean, he did just go through something,” Megan says. “I don’t know why he lost his job, but that role was supposed to be his big break. If he blew it, maybe it was enough to wake him up? Help him see what really matters?”
“Seriously? Have you forgotten who we’re talking about?”
I’m not about to believe Devon has suddenly changed. The man was very good at being concerned and loving, but only when being so also servedhim.Did he need me to help him run lines? Thenof coursehe’d make dinner. Did he want me to be his arm candy at a big premiere where he was hoping to impressa fancy producer and his casting director wife? Then he wouldloveto buy me a new dress.
Right before I got pregnant with Juno, we went through a particularly rough patch where we weren’t getting along at all. But my birthday was coming up, so Devon planned this big trip to Martha’s Vineyard. A weekend away, just the two of us. A time to really celebrateme.
Except there was also a party happening that weekend…just two doors down from the cottage Devon had rented for us. Hosted by a soon-to-be famous playwright Devon absolutely had to meet that very weekend if he had any hopes of securing the lead role in a groundbreaking play that wasn’t even finished yet.
When I refused to go to the party with him—it was my birthday, after all—he went by himself, promising to meet me for dinner after. I waited at the restaurant for two hours before walking back to the cottage alone. Devon didn’t get home until after midnight, drunk and not even a little apologetic because he wassurehe’d just made the connection that would launch his stage career once and for all.
Newsflash: The playwrightstillisn’t famous, and that groundbreaking play he was working on? Still not finished.
“Okay, fine. That doesn’t sound very much like Devon,” Megan says. “But you never know.” She’s quiet for a beat before she adds, “He’s still Juno’s dad, Evie. Like it or not.”
I breathe out a sigh. “If he wants to be her dad, he can come down here and tell me in person.”
“Then tell him that,” she says. “Make him work if he wants things to be different.”
I like that idea because I doubt very seriously Devon would ever make the trip.
On my car’s dashboard, the clock flips from 11:59 to noon. “Okay, I’ve got to go. I’m having lunch with Victoria right this second.”
Despite the downer Devon conversation, a burst of nervous energy still bubbles up at the thought of meeting Victoria in person. It’s possible I’ve started to idolize her over the past few months. Partly because she has one of the best reputations in the industry. I played with musicians in New York who traveled all the way to North Carolina just to see her. But mostly I really admire her work. She recently posted a ten-part video of a cello restoration on her YouTube channel, and I’ve already watched the entire series at least five times.
The biggest parts of lutherie involve the construction of new instruments and the repair of existing ones. But Victoria’s restoration work—that’s the piece that excites me the most. The idea of taking something everyone else thinks is too old or too broken and bringing it back to its full potential? That’s magic I want to be a part of.
And I will be.
Assuming this lunch meeting goes well, and Victoria doesn’t rescind the apprenticeship to work with someone whose life isn’t one tiny spark away from a dumpster fire.
“Oh! Amazing! Let me know how it goes,” Megan says. “I’m sure Victoria will love you. You’ve got this, Mama.”
I say goodbye to Megan, then turn in my seat. The fact that Juno is still asleep loosens some of the tension coiled inside me.
This is going to be fine.
Easy.
Victoria and I have chatted over the phone a few times already, and those conversations have been amazing. We have good chemistry, and she knows about Juno, so there’s really no way this can go wrong. Juno’s a good baby. An easy baby.
An easy baby who was a complete terror for most of the morning, but we’re past that! She’s sleeping now! Everything is great!
By the time I make it inside the restaurant, I almost have myself convinced.
