Evvie Drake Starts Over - Linda Holmes Page 0,50

right, and it didn’t change the fact that she had intended to leave him nothing but a note, after which he’d have spent the same thirteen days comforting her father. She could argue, but it was true: she’d been ready to walk away from all of them with no goodbye. She’d have visited. She’d have called. But being really gone was what she had intended. Being really, really gone.

“No,” she said. “No, of course not, of course I knew you wouldn’t. I don’t know what I thought.” It was the two of them, and the faint pick-a pick-a, and the furnace kicking on. “I’m sorry.”

He nodded, but what he said was “You don’t have to be sorry.”

She looked down and noticed for the first time that she still wore her ring, and he didn’t. He’d taken his ring off two months after Lori moved out. Andy had been married and was now unmarried, de-married. She was differently married, but forever.

“I want to know we’re okay.”

He nodded. “Of course. Of course we’re okay.” He turned to her. “It’s a lot to think about.”

“Yeah.” She rubbed her eyes.

Andy looked at his watch and said, “I don’t want to keep you up. And to be honest, I should get home. I have work in the morning. It’s been a long day. I just didn’t want to go to sleep with it out there.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’m glad we got to talk.” They stopped at the door. “Andy, I’m sorry that’s how you found all this out, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“No, I understand.” He jangled his keys in his hand. “Maybe I fell down on the job.”

“You didn’t. I didn’t want anybody to know. So nobody knew.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah.” He repeated it—“Yeah”—and walked toward the door.

“See you Saturday?” she asked as he stepped out onto the porch.

“Sure.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Ev.” He went down the steps to his car and waved, and she shut the door behind him.

O​N FRIDAY AFTERNOON, EVVIE WAS reading in the living room when she got a text from Andy: Hey—have to cancel tmrw AM. Wknd plans with M. Should be back next wk. okay?

She stared at it for a minute, then hit reply. She typed, Sure, have fun. Then she backed up and changed it to Sure! Have fun!

Well, that looks sarcastic, she thought, and changed it to Sure. Have fun!

The next morning, she was puttering in the kitchen doing the dishes when she heard the distinctive rings and bumps of the pinball machine. She poked her head into the apartment. “Can I watch?”

“You can as long as you don’t make fun of me,” he said without looking away from the game. “Wait, it’s Saturday,” he said over the bells. “Aren’t you supposed to be out with Andy?”

“He canceled,” she said as she walked over to the machine and leaned on the side. “Girlfriend plans.”

“Ooh, the other woman,” Dean said. “How do you feel about that?”

“Well, it means I have to make my own pancakes, which is a drag.”

“I don’t think that’s what I was asking.”

“No, I know it wasn’t. I’m happy he’s happy. I wish he didn’t have to cancel, but I don’t blame him. Or her, or whoever. If I were dating him, I wouldn’t want him to have a standing commitment every Saturday morning. I’d expect him to be able to go out, or go away, or…stay in. Or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” he repeated. “Everything’s okay with you guys?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” He swore gently and let a new silver ball go.

“Don’t expect me to be jealous, it’s such a cliché. She’s not the first person he’s dated in the last four years; she’s just lasted the longest.”

“I thought maybe you didn’t like her.”

“I don’t know her very well. I mean, I know her, and she was at his birthday in February, but I haven’t talked to her much.”

“She’s probably terrified,” Dean said, as he knocked the machine with his hip.

“I think that’s cheating, if you bump into it,” Evvie said. “And she’s terrified of what?”

“She’s probably terrified of you.”

“Why would she be terrified of me?”

“Seriously? Evvie, how many people, since she started dating Andrew, do you think have told her that they thought he was dating you? Or waiting to date you? Or trying to date you? You live here; you know all this bored-ass gossip. I get you guys—you know, sort of—but if I were Monica, I’d think you would be like…some crazy combination of his

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