“He doesn’t.” Trav flips the blinker and coasts onto the freeway. The dark of night coats the road and the headlights reflect and flicker like stars against the pavement, which is wet from the brief afternoon shower. “But I do. And believe me, Ran’s coworkers are celebrating tonight just as much as he is. We’re all thrilled to have our buddy back.”
I run my palms up and down my legs. It’s almost March but tonight is unseasonably cold, and this skirt is unusually skimpy. What am I doing here?
We drive the next ten minutes in silence.
“Why did you want me to come, Trav?” I look at him across the seat.
When I see the exit up ahead that will lead us to Ran’s townhome, I have the sudden urge to yank on the handle and leap from the moving vehicle. I can’t do this.
“Because you have every right to be a part of Ran’s life as the rest of us.”
I press my lips together firmly. “Um, no I don’t. He has no idea who I am.”
The car makes a sharp right and I can see the stretch of vehicles lined outside Ran’s place. Trav pulls in behind a beat up Volkswagen bug that has at least five different paint colors layering it, making it resemble a patchwork quilt.
“He knows who you are, Maggie.” Trav kills the engine and angles toward me in the cab. “He remembers your accident and he remembers you coming to the hospital to see him. It’s not like you’re a stranger.”
“But still—even if he remembers that—why do you keep calling me and pushing me to be around him? Why not just let it all go?”
Trav wraps the truck keys in his fingers and the metal jingles in his palm as he hesitates to open the door. “Because I saw what he was like when he was with you.” He stretches a hand toward the handle and keeps it there as he finishes speaking. “And I don’t think I could live with myself if I knew he had the potential to have that again, and I did nothing to help him get it back.” Trav pops the door open. “Seriously, what kind of person would that make me?”
“A normal one.”
“It’s not normal to sit back and watch your best friend miss out on love just because he doesn’t remember it.” Trav slams the door shut and skirts the edge of the truck to come to the passenger side. He opens my door. “Let’s go make him remember, shall we?”
“That’s not what I’m here for.” I slip out of my seat and readjust my skirt, wishing I had about six more inches to work with.
“Honestly, it doesn’t matter why you’re here. I’m just glad you are. And I know Ran will be, too.”
We walk the steps toward the townhouse and follow another couple in. The small entryway is at maximum occupancy and I rise up on toe to try to count the tops of people’s heads, but there are just too many. Maybe I’ll be able to avoid seeing Ran altogether. His quaint living quarters feels more like the scene of a college frat party, and it would be quite easy to get swallowed up in the congestion of bodies and haze of intoxication.
Trav pushes at my back and we slide into the room. There’s a huge “Welcome Back, Ran!” banner draped over the mantel, and the breakfast bar is cluttered with bottles that vary in height and shape. Someone’s taken on the role as resident bartender and is mixing up potent concoctions in red plastic cups.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asks above the volume of chatter and music that pulses through the room.
“Nothing, thanks.” I stay close to Trav like he’s my security blanket.
“You’re the second person to turn down one of my infamous mixtures tonight,” the bartender huffs, half-annoyed, half-joking. He bites on the metal ring that hooks through his front lip. “Couldn’t even get the party-boy to try one. I figured if anyone could use a drink, it would have been Ran.”
Trav nods and we push past the kitchen to the family room. I don’t recognize anyone, and it makes me feel not only foolish, but stupid, as I look around at the unfamiliar faces. The faces of the people who are supposedly part of Ran’s life. I’ve never met them. I don’t know any of them. I hate the hollow feeling it brings to my stomach, the realization that what Ran and