I spotted Karen at the bar and made my way through the throng, packed in on all sides by hot bodies and laughter. Tonight, her big coat was nowhere in evidence. She was wearing jeans and a white top. I felt even more nervous as I arrived beside her.
“Hey,” I said over the noise.
“Hey, there.” She smiled at me, then leaned in to my ear. “Excellent timing. What can I get you?”
I scanned the nearest taps and picked a beer at random. She paid, handed me my pint, and then eased away from the bar and nodded for me to follow her through the crowd, deeper into the pub. As I did, I wondered if I’d entirely miscalibrated this evening and she was taking me to meet a group of friends. But there was a door just past the bar, and she pushed through that into a different beer garden, this one secluded at the back of the pub and surrounded by trees. There were circular wooden tables spaced out on the grass, and a small play area, where a few children were making their way across low rope bridges while their parents sat drinking nearby. It was less busy out here, and Karen led me over to an empty table toward the far end.
“We could have brought the kids,” I said.
“If we were insane, yes.” She sat down. “Assuming you’re not being incredibly irresponsible, I’m guessing you managed to find a babysitter?”
I sat down beside her.
“Yes. My father.”
“Wow.” She blinked. “After what you told me before, that must be strange.”
“It’s weird, yeah. I wouldn’t have asked him normally, but … well. I wanted to come out for a drink, and beggars can’t be choosers.” She raised her eyebrows, and I blushed. “I mean about him, not you.”
“Ha! This is all off the record, by the way.” She put her hand on my arm, and left it there for a couple of seconds longer than she needed to. “I’m glad you could come, anyway,” she said.
“Me too.”
“Cheers, by the way.”
We clinked glasses.
“So. You don’t have any concerns about him?”
“My father?” I shook my head. “Honestly, no. Not on that level. I don’t know how I feel about it, to be honest. It’s not a permanent thing. It’s not any kind of thing, really.”
“Yes. That’s a sensible way of looking at it. People worry too much about the nature of things. Sometimes it’s better just to go with them. What about Jake?”
“Oh, he probably likes him more than he does me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
I remembered how Jake had been just before I left, and fought down the guilt it brought.
“Maybe,” I said.
“Like I’ve told you, you’re too hard on yourself.”
“Maybe,” I said again.
I sipped my drink. A part of me remained on edge, but I realized now that it wasn’t anything to do with spending time with Karen. In fact, it was surprising how relaxed I felt now that I was here, and how natural it was to be sitting this close to her, a little closer than friends normally would. No, the nerves were because I was still worried about Jake. It was hard to stop thinking about him. Hard to shake the gut feeling that, as much as I wanted to be here, there was somewhere else it was far more important for me to be instead.
I took another drink and told myself not to be stupid.
“You said your mum’s looking after Adam?”
“Yeah.”
Karen rolled her eyes and then started to explain her whole situation. She’d moved back to Featherbank last year, choosing the village mainly because her mother lived here. While there had never been any love lost between the two of them, the woman was good with Adam, and Karen had figured the support would help while she established herself on her own two feet again.
“Adam’s father isn’t on the scene?”
“Do you think I’d be out with you if he was?”
Karen smiled. I shrugged slightly helplessly, and she let me off.
“No, he isn’t. And maybe that’s rough on Adam, but sometimes kids are better off that way, even if they don’t always realize it at the time. Brian—that’s my ex—let’s just say that he was like your father in some ways. A lot of ways.”
She took a sip of her own drink, and while the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, it still felt like a natural point to leave that particular subject. Some conversations need to wait, if they even have to come at all. In