by Isla Drake
“I’m so glad you came tonight,” Paul says, snapping me out of my memories. He’s still handsome as ever and he’s still got a great smile. It was that smile that had first drawn me to him back in college. I can see a few more lines around his eyes but they don’t detract from his good looks. He looks polished and elegant and perfectly put-together.
I nod politely. “You said you wanted to talk?”
Paul nods. “Right. I’m not sure exactly how to go about this.” He looks suddenly nervous. I feel my hands grow clammy. If he says he wants to be in Liam’s life again, I don’t know how I’ll react.
Paul takes a deep breath and leans across the table toward me.
“How are you Hannah? How are you really?”
I’m slightly confused by this change of subject, but I give him a small smile. “I’m good,” I say. “Things are great.”
Paul doesn’t seem satisfied by my answer though. “Are you sure? You can be honest with me. I know things must have been difficult for you after I ended things the way I did.”
I blink, surprised that he would bring up our past so casually. My brain cycles through several possible replies before settling on polite indifference.
“It was difficult,” I agree. “For a time. But I managed to get by just fine. I have a lot of friends who stood by me. Helped me get on my feet. It took a little while, but things are going great for me now and have been for several years. I have a great job. Liam is happy and doing well. I really couldn’t be happier these days.”
Though he’s the main reason for my recent happiness, I decide not to mention Finn right now. My relationship is none of Paul’s business. If he’s offended by my roundabout reminder of the fact that he didn’t stand by me, he doesn’t show it. He merely nods, thoughtful. This is becoming one of the most awkward dinner conversations I’ve ever been a part of.
“Good,” he says. “I really am glad for that. Lately, I find myself thinking about the past a lot and wondering if maybe I should have made different choices. Done things differently. If you and I hadn’t run off to get married, you wouldn’t have dropped out of college to follow me. You might have ended up with a completely different life.”
I smile. “I appreciate the concern, but I love my life just the way it is. It hasn’t always been easy, but I’m exactly where I want to be. It took me a little longer, but I eventually finished college and got my degree. I worked my way up from a housekeeper to the general manager of the B&B where I work. If you invited me to dinner tonight out of guilt over the past, you can let that go. I’m fine. Liam is fine. We’re happy.”
Paul nods again, not looking at me. The server places a basket of bread on the table between us and tells us our salads will be out shortly. Paul nods and thanks the woman and she turns to go.
“Paul,” I say. “Why did really you call me? What were you hoping to get out of tonight?”
He sighs and gives me a rueful smile. “You always did like to get to the point.”
I’m not sure if that’s a compliment, but I smile anyway.
“I’ve been dealing with a lot of stress at work,” he says. “And at home too, if I’m being honest.”
I wonder if his marriage is on the rocks. Is that why he called me? Is he hoping to rekindle things after all these years? Surely not.
“I think part of me wanted some closure.”
I blink. Did I hear him correctly? “Closure? Seriously?”
He nods.
My eyes narrow and I lean forward across the table. “Paul, you left me without warning 2 months after our child was born. You asked for a divorce and relinquished your parental rights. You can’t really get much more closure than that.”
He has the decency to look sheepish at the reminder, but it strikes me that he still doesn’t look remorseful.
“I’m sorry for the way things ended between us,” he says. “I never wanted to hurt you. I think we were both just too young and too impetuous. We jumped in without considering the consequences.”
As I sit across from Paul and watch him discuss all the mistakes he thinks were made in our past, I wonder if I should feel something toward him. Anger? Hatred? Annoyance? But it surprises me to realize that I don’t have any strong emotions about him at all. Mostly, I feel sorry for him. He clearly feels guilty over his past mistakes and he’s worried that I hold resentment or that he ruined my life. He also doesn’t seem particularly happy. I remember the carefree man I’d once thought I loved. I don’t see any evidence of the spark that drew me to Paul back then. Instead I see a handsome, slightly sad man in an expensive shirt. Had I really missed out on cheeseburgers with Finn and Liam for this?
He hasn’t once mentioned Liam, which should make me angry on his behalf. But it just makes me sad. Part of me has always wondered if Liam might be missing something without his father in his life. But then I think about his birthday parties and how Finn has never missed one of them. I remember the way Finn knelt next to Liam in the field that day, showing him how to hold a bat. I remember that Finn was going to teach Liam how to grill burgers until I cancelled our dinner plans. I try to picture Paul in Finn’s place and I can’t. I can’t picture it because Paul has never once been there for Liam. Judging by tonight’s conversation, Liam isn’t missing anything by not knowing Paul.
When the meal finally ends and the check is brought out, Paul graciously hands the server his card before I can reach for my purse. He gives me a smile as though he feels proud of this act of generosity. Has he always been this pompous and I didn’t notice before? No, I don’t think so. I think I knew him before he got caught up in the trappings of his family’s prestige and wealth. He’d been a different man then. I don’t know the one sitting here with me now.
“Thank you for dinner,” I say, forcing a smile I don’t feel.
Paul nods. “Thank you for the company. It was nice to catch up.”
I don’t respond to that. We hadn’t caught up at all. He’d invited me here to clear his own guilty conscious. Whatever issues he’s dealing with, he clearly thought that he needed some kind of atonement for his past misdeeds. He could have done all this with a phone call, but he’d clearly felt that he needed to see me for himself. I take a breath, coming to a decision.
“Paul, whatever you’re going through, you’re going to be fine. You always are. I don’t know what you hoped to achieve tonight, but I hope you found whatever you were looking for. Please don’t contact me again. I’ve moved on and I have a good life now. I really do hope you can do the same.”
Paul doesn’t say anything as I stand and push my chair back under the table. I give him a small smile and a wave. Then I turn and walk from the restaurant with my head held high.
Chapter Thirty
Finn
Hannah: I can meet you for dinner tomorrow at 7. Not in Oak Hill.
Paul: Great! Francesca’s in Littleton okay?
Hannah: That’s fine.
Paul: See you tomorrow.
I keep seeing the words as they’d appeared on the laptop screen. I imagine Hannah typing them out on her phone from the kitchen while I was in the living room with Liam. I think back to her telling me we would have to reschedule our cheeseburger night. That she’d forgotten about a monthly book club meeting and couldn’t back out at the last minute. I’d known better, but I hadn’t tried to dig deeper. I let her lie to me. I’d even offered to stay with Liam, but she said she already had Margo lined up to come watch him. It all would have seemed normal if I hadn’t already seen the chat on the laptop screen. Neither of us knew that the texts from her phone were being mirrored to her laptop. I’m still not certain she knows. I didn’t mention what I saw.
Paul. Hannah’s ex-husband. She’s having dinner with her ex-husband. Liam’s father. And she’d lied to me. I feel a sharp stab of pain at the thought. We’d agreed to be honest with one another and she’d lied to me. I left this morning after breakfast with the excuse that I had things to do at my house. Hannah hadn’t tried to stop me. B
y 6 o’clock, I’m sick of my own company so I head to Mack’s. I know the place will be packed and noisy on a Saturday and that’s exactly what I need. Distraction.
When I arrive, I give the hostess a smile and a wave and head for the bar. Wyatt is working one half of the massive horseshoe-shaped structure while another bartender works the other half. I head for Wyatt’s side and sit. He waves at me as he hands off a tray of beers to one of the servers. After a few minutes, he heads over.
“Hey, Finn. What’s up?”
“Just came for a beer. Maybe some dinner.”
Wyatt looks at me like I’ve suddenly started speaking a foreign language. He glances around behind me. “Where’s Hannah?”
“Can I get a beer?”
Wyatt’s eyes narrow at my sharp tone, but he nods before reaching into the ice well and pulling up a bottle for me. He pops the top and sets it down in front of me. I take a long pull off the bottle and set it down. Wyatt is still looking at me, a question in his eyes.
“Hannah?” he asks again. “Did you two have a fight?”
I sigh. “She said she had book club.”
Wyatt looks at me, confused. “So?”
I meet his gaze. “She doesn’t have book club.”
I tell him about the messages I saw. “I wasn’t snooping, Wyatt. I’m not like that. I trust her.” I sigh and pick up my beer. “Or I did.”
Wyatt looks over to the other bartender. “Audrey, I need to take off. You good until Brian gets here?”
The young brunette nods. “Sure thing.”
Turning back to me, he says, “Be right back.”
He walks into the kitchen. While he’s gone, I finish my beer and reach over the bar to grab another. Perks of your brothers owning a restaurant are that you never have to pay for beer or food. It’s a nice bonus.
I’m half-finished with my second beer when a plate of loaded fries appears in front of me. I look up to see Wyatt standing there. He shrugs.
“If you’re going to drink, you gotta eat. Carbs soak up the booze. You taught me that.”
I look back at the plate loaded with fried potatoes, bacon, cheese and whatever else Wyatt threw on top and shrug. I appreciate that he’s not trying to talk me out of drinking. I pick up a fork and dig in. By the time I’m on my third beer, Ronan and Van are here. Wyatt must have called them. Van joins me in my quest to drink myself into a coma, tapping his bottle to mine in a toast. He can always be counted on for a good time. Ronan sits quietly and watches us, ever the responsible little brother. He’s not drinking, but he’s not commenting on my drinking and I appreciate that.
Wyatt tries to use reason. “Maybe it’s not what you think,” he says. “You said she hasn’t heard from the guy since right after Liam was born, right?”
“Piece of shit,” Ronan mutters. It’s rare for him to offer commentary on people he’s never met, but in this case, I’m inclined to agree. I only met Paul once shortly after he and Hannah moved to town. I don’t remember much about him, but I don’t think I’m missing anything.
Wyatt nods his agreement with Ronan. “You’re probably right,” he says. “But what if he’s changed his tune? What if he realizes he was wrong and wants a relationship with his son?”
I feel a rush of protectiveness surge through me at the thought. I don’t know when I started thinking of Liam as mine, but I do. The truth is, I’ve grown to love Liam just as much as I love his mother. I hate the idea of Hannah’s ex coming back into his life and trying to make up for lost time. I know it’s wrong of me. I should be happy for Liam. He deserves two parents who love him and want the best for him. He can’t help it that I’ve started to think of myself as one of them. That’s my issue to deal with.
“Maybe,” I say in response to Wyatt. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
I pick up my beer and drain it. Is that 5? Or 6? Doesn’t matter. One of my brothers will drive me home. I wave the empty bottle at Wyatt who rolls his eyes but goes to retrieve another.
The night becomes a blur. Eventually Claire shows up for her weekly performance. That must mean it’s 9 o’clock, right? She takes one look at me and Van and rolls her eyes before heading for the piano in the corner. I’ve stopped counting beers. At some point, Ronan forced a bottle of water into my hand and wouldn’t let up until I drank it. I tried to convince Wyatt to bring me a shot of whiskey, but he wisely refused.
I’m not sure what time it is when Ronan finally convinces me to leave Mack’s. It’s late, but not past closing. I shrug off his arm and manage to walk out of Mack’s unassisted. When we get out to the parking lot, I stop when I see that Ronan’s driving his police cruiser.
“Seriously?” I’m proud that my speech isn’t slurred.
He opens the back door and waves a hand at me. “Watch your head.”
I snort a laugh. “I’m not getting in the back.”
“This way if you puke, I can just hose it out.”
“You know I don’t puke.”
Ronan sighs and shuts the door before opening the front passenger door. “Fine. But if you puke in my car, you’re paying for the detail.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter before climbing in.
The ride home is a blur of streetlights and dark shop windows. Ronan remains quiet, but that’s normal for Ronan since his time in the Marines. He was never overly talkative before the military, but after Afghanistan and nearly losing his leg, he became downright antisocial for a while. He’s gotten better over the past couple years, but he still seems to hold himself apart from us somehow, even when he’s surrounded by people. I still worry about him, but he seems to be doing okay these days. Ronan pulls up at my house and turns off the engine. Instead of just waiting for me to go inside, he walks with me. He follows me into the house and waits for me to take off my shoes and sit down on the couch.
“You good?” he asks.
I nod, wondering when my little brother became the caretaker. That’s always been my job.
“Listen Finn,” he says giving me that direct gaze he’s so good at. “You might not remember this tomorrow, but I’m going to give you some advice.”
I sigh, but I don’t interrupt.
“I’ve seen the way she looks at you. The way you look at her. You’re crazy about each other. If you love her, you need to make sure she knows it. You don’t want to look back later and realize you have regrets. Trust me on that.”
I study my younger brother and consider his words. This is the closest he’s come to talking about his past with me. Drunk or not, I can see how uncomfortable he is with even that small confession. I dip my head once in a nod.
“Thanks, Ro. And thanks for the ride home.”
He flashes me a rare smile. “No problem. Drink some water and get some sleep. I’ll see you at dinner tomorrow?”
“I’ll be there.”
“You’ll be hungover as shit.” He laughs on his way out the door.
I shake my head. He’s probably right. I don’t want to think about tomorrow. Instead, I follow his advice and drink a big glass of water. Then I refill the glass and bring it with me to leave beside the bed. I somehow strip down to my underwear without falling. Once that feat is accomplished, I feel like I’ve done a full workout. I fall into my empty, cold bed. My last thought before passing out is that I wish Hannah were here.
Chapter Thirty-one
Finn
I wake up at dawn with a pounding headache. I swallow two aspirin and drink the glass of water on the bedside table. I have a vague memory of putting it there last night. I stumble to the bathroom to pee then go back to sleep until noon. When I wake again, my headache is a dull pounding instead of the jackhammer it had been earlier. I stand in the shower for far longer than necessary, trying to wash away the fatigue and beer fog from last night. I regret that last beer. I’m also eternally grateful to Wyatt for refusing to serve me hard liquor. I don’t want to imagine that hangover. This one is bad enough. After my shower, I dress in jeans and a t-shirt and make m
y way to the couch with a Gatorade. It’s all I have energy for. I should go get my truck, but I just don’t care enough right now.
An hour or so later, my headache is finally gone, and I've stopped wishing for death. I still have zero motivation to go get my truck from Mack's. Later, I'll make my way over there for dinner. Maybe by then I’ll feel more human. For now, I'm content to lie here on this couch for as long as it will have me. I'm aware that I'm being self-pitying, but my girlfriend did recently spend several hours with her ex-husband slash father of her only child. It's been almost a full day since the two of them had dinner and Hannah still hasn't called or texted me. The implications of that are pretty obvious. She's either still with him or she's trying to figure out a way to break things off with me.
The sharp pain lances through me, shocking in its intensity. I hadn't expected this when we'd started this thing. I hadn't known how attached I'd get. How I'd come to expect her presence. How much I'd come to need her. I don't know how I'm going to go back to just being her friend and boss. But I made her a promise. No matter what happened between us, there would be no hard feelings. I can’t go back on my word now just because she changed her mind.
I look around my house. It feels empty and cold in a way I’ve never noticed before. I’ve lived here for years but it doesn’t really feel like home. I think of Hannah’s house, full of life and clutter and color. Liam’s toys scattered about, framed photos of the two of them on the walls. I’ve spent more time there than here lately and I realize I didn’t miss this place a bit.