Love Gone Viral
Page 10
And she had reacted to his reasoning with dismissal and pity.
He took a long swallow of the beer but hardly registered its taste. Lizzie came back and gave him an assessing look. “The beer okay?”
“It’s fine. It’s cold and wet and tastes like beer.” He took another large swallow, then put the can down on the counter. “But let’s go out with Blue so you can have your ice cream.”
“I usually don’t wear a mask when I take him out late, cause no one’s around.”
Evan nodded in agreement. Nothing else about tonight was normal, so he wasn’t going to stand on ceremony now.
The rain had stopped completely, and the air was still and muggy. The streets were quiet, and Blue walked along happily, stopping to smell something new every few feet.
“He’s not the greatest walker,” Lizzie apologized. “He’s more interested in sniffing around and looking for something to eat that he’s not supposed to.”
“But I’m guessing he’s good company.”
“He’s the best. I don’t even want to think about how old he is. But he doesn’t either. He still acts like a puppy half the time and still jumps up in the air when I’m getting his food ready.”
“Sorry I missed that.”
“If you’re still here when I feed him in the morning, you can see it then. It’s like every meal is a wonderful surprise. It’s too bad we all can’t react that way.”
“What makes you jump up and down with excitement?” The question shocked him. He rarely asked anyone personal questions unrelated to medical symptoms.
“I don’t know. The usual. A beautiful day, Daniel coming home, a good book, or a good movie. A new flavor of ice cream. Have you tasted the Netflix and Chilll’d? It’s incredible.” The pitch of her voice had gone up, and she sounded like a happy child.
Evan was stunned. Her list wasn’t usual at all, at least in his experience. Most of the women he had known got excited by tangible things, like new clothes or trips. Or the nerds like his sister, who was a pediatrician, and his female colleagues, got enthusiastic about scientific breakthroughs. But Lizzie seemed like someone who delighted in simple pleasures. No wonder she and his mom had seemed to connect on the phone.
Impulsively, he had to ask. “Have you ever tried a pogo stick?”
She turned to him, her eyes wide and her smile huge in the semi-darkness of the street lamps.
“No, I haven’t. But when you mentioned it before, I got so jealous. I think if I had a car, I’d follow you back to your mom’s tomorrow just so I could try it.”
”Oh God.” He looked around, turning his head in exaggerated sweeps. “They haven’t brought back Candid Camera, have they? This isn’t all some Hollywood set-up, is it?”
Lizzie laughed. “Nope. Not at all. You just stumbled upon a woman whose life gets changed by things dropping out of the air.”
Her tone had changed in the middle of her sentence, the laughter leaving her voice completely. She kept her head slightly bowed, and Evan could see her take in a deep breath.
“Come on, Blue. Let’s keep moving.” She gave a gentle tug on the leash, and Blue obediently moved a few steps before stopping to sniff again.
“Have other things dropped on you?”
“No, not on me. But my husband was killed by a falling piece of glass.”
“Oh my God. That’s horrible.”
“Yes, it was. Quick, though. No frightening loss of breath, like people have gone through with Covid. No long-term suffering from cancer or other illnesses. I try to tell myself that whenever I get morose. If we each have a time to go, then his was probably one of the easiest.”
Evan stayed silent for a moment, taking it all in. He looked at her silhouette. She looked and walked like a young woman in the darkness, but she had obviously endured a lot.
“That must have been devastating for you and your son.”
“It was. But we survived.”
“How long ago did you say it was?”
“Ten years.”
“You never remarried?”
Lizzie shook her head. “I really loved Miguel, and Daniel loved his Daddy so much. For years I couldn’t even think about the idea of somehow replacing him. It just seemed absurd to me. Like replacing Blue with a pet snail.”
Evan choked. “Well. If you put it that way.”
She gave him a small smile. “When Daniel got older and started going out with girls in high school, he used to tell me I should date, too. He told me his dad wouldn’t have wanted me to be alone. But by then I was used to being on my own. And I was always busy. Things are going to be strange now, though. As soon as the world shut down, Daniel was back home, and more ‘back home’ than he’s been in years. When he was in high school he was always out, and the same during breaks from college. But he’s been with me now full-time these last several months. We’ve each been working—he on school stuff and I’ve been busy with my life-shatteringly-urgent copy editing—but we’ve been together. Now it’ll just be Blue.”
They walked a while in silence. Evan saw his car in the street and realized they had made a circle.
“Looks like it’s almost ice cream time. What did you say that new flavor was?”
Lizzie’s demeanor brightened instantly.
“Netflix and Chilll’d. It’s incredible. This one’s actually made with almond milk and isn’t even technically ice cream, I suppose, but it is fantastic.”
Evan could practically see the exclamation marks in her speech. He laughed. “You’re scaring me. Are you going to start jumping up and down the way you say Blue does?”
She gave him a huge smile and reached for his hand. “Come on. I bet it will make even Mister Serious Scientist happy.”
She pulled him up the steps to her door, still holding his hand. She dropped it to use the key attached to the dog leash, and Evan felt oddly bereft. Was he twelve?
He followed Lizzie inside and caught sight of the clock on the kitchen stove. Midnight. It was midnight on a Friday night in the middle of a pandemic, and he was about to have ice cream with a woman whose car had been crushed by a tree. A beautiful, vibrant woman, who had made his heart race by holding his hand.
“Have you ever thought of writing other things besides advertising copy?” His words surprised them both.
“Sometimes. But the pay is decent, and even long before this, it allowed me to have a pretty flexible schedule. I could go to Daniel’s games and school events and do the other things I like to do.”
“Like what?”
“Are you going to try Netflix and Chilll’d, or do you want to see what else I have?”
“Are you kidding? I’d be an idiot not to be swayed by your endorsement. I guess that’s why you’re good at advertising.”
She scooped the not-technically-ice cream into two bowls and handed him one, her eyes wide with anticipation as she waited for him to taste it.
It was good. Very good. But so was the obvious delight on her face. She smiled proudly as he nodded his head in appreciation.
“See? I told you!”
“Yes, you did. Now eat. But you didn’t tell me what else you like to do.”
“Oh, lots of things. I run. This year I’m turning forty-five, so I’m hoping my chances for placing in races will improve when I’m in a higher age group.” She grinned impishly. “And I like to read, and cook, and dance. I wanted to be a ballerina when I was little, but I wasn’t very good. So I did other things—soccer, Little League, and later Frisbee—stuff like that. But then I found out from a mom of one of Daniel’s friends about ballet classes for adults. They are the best. They keep you flexible, make you feel like a pretend princess, and there’s absolutely no pressure.”
Once again she was bouncing ever so slightly in her enthusiasm. Maybe the dog had learned from watching her.
“I’m assuming the classes stopped thanks to the lock-down?”
“They did, unfortunately. But we’ve actually had classes over Zoom, and they’ve worked
out better than you might expect. That space right outside the bedroom you’re sleeping in is my new dance studio.” The smile on her face was contagious, and he couldn’t resist smiling back.
“So let’s say, hypothetically, you were hired to work on a public health campaign. A slogan, to catch peoples’ attention. It’s late, and we’ve both had a really long day. But how about I leave you my email address, and you can email me any ideas you have. Wouldn’t it be nice to put all that persuasive energy you have to good use?”
She stared at him thoughtfully and then handed him her phone. “Go ahead. Put your info in, and if I think of anything, I’ll let you know.”
She was quieter now. He felt a sudden desire to prolong the evening. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so close to anyone before, and now it had to come to an end. He’d get up early in the morning, let himself out, and push aside all thoughts of Lizzie Rodriguez and her bubbling joie de vivre.
He put his name, number, and email into her contacts, then handed her his own phone.
“Do you mind? If I know my mother, she’ll want to check up and make sure you’re all right.”
Lizzie smiled and entered her details. “You can tell your mom how grateful I am that she raised such a kind son.”
She put the bowls in the dishwasher and moved to turn off the light. “Will I see you in the morning?”
“Probably not. I’ll try to leave quietly so as not to disturb you.”
She nodded, then held her hands together in front of her, namaste style, and bowed her head ever so slightly.
“We’re still not supposed to shake hands, but I formally thank you for your amazing kindness.”
He laughed softly and shook his head. “The pleasure was all mine.” He smiled and nodded once more and then went downstairs. She probably didn’t remember that she had already held his hand, but he wouldn’t forget.
Evan’s phone alarm went off at 6:30. He got up and showered quickly, happy he had brought in the bag containing his fresh clothes and toiletries. Twenty minutes later he made his way quietly up the stairs.
He was astonished to hear quiet music coming from the kitchen. He put his bags down and moved towards the tantalizing sounds and scents.
Ooph! A startling mass of eager dog greeted him at the entry, paws against his chest.
“Blue, down!” Lizzie’s voice was stern, but he could hear her laughter. The dog obviously could, as well, because he happily ignored his mistress.
Evan moved into the kitchen, once again convinced he had entered an alternate reality. His mask from yesterday lay on the table. Next to it was a piece of paper with the words STANDING APART, UNITED TOGETHER printed in bold ink. Lizzie was standing by the counter, taking muffins from a baking tray and putting them on a cooling rack.
“Morning!”
“Good morning. I intended to slip out without waking you.”
“Blue’s an early riser. We both are. I like to run in the morning before it gets too hot.”
He looked at her, astonished. “You already went running?”
“Uh-huh. Just a short run.”
“And now you’ve made muffins?”
“Yeah, but they’re quick and easy.”
He looked at his phone. “It’s only 7AM, isn’t it? Or is my phone on the fritz?”
“Part of why I don’t date is that I like to go to bed early.”
“So last night would have been hard for you even without falling trees, sodden clothes, and an unexpected houseguest.”
She just shrugged and continued what she was doing.
“So, did I miss the morning feeding?”
“Nope. We waited for you.” Once again he could hear the smile in her voice.
She put the last muffin on the rack and went to remove Blue’s dish from the dishwasher. The dog saw her and ran over, starting to do an amazing dog dance. Lizzie walked over to the giant plastic bin on the floor, and as she scooped out the kibble, Blue began to literally jump in place, front paws going up in the air and then coming back down.
“He’s like a canine pogo stick!”
“He is, isn’t he?” Lizzie laughed and pushed the dog aside as she made her way to his spot next to his water dish. She put the bowl down and Blue dove in.
“Now it’s our turn. But we don’t have to dance or jump. Though you’re welcome to, if you’d like. Do you want coffee? I drink tea myself, but coffee’s no trouble.”
“Tea would be fine.” He could get coffee at his mom’s in just a little while. And as the thought crossed his mind, his phone rang. He stared at it suspiciously and then pushed the green answer icon.
“Good morning, Mother.”
“Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?”
She sounded remarkably chipper and not at all the worse for having supposedly taken pain pills.
“I did. Did you?”
“Perfectly. How is Lizzie?”
“Lizzie’s fine, too.”
“Oh good. Put me on speaker.”
Evan took the phone from his ear and stared at it a moment, perplexed and exasperated, then hit the speaker icon. What in the world was she up to now?
“Good morning, Lizzie.”
“Good morning.” Lizzie looked at him, a question in her eyes.
“How is that dear little boy of yours? Has he turned out well?”
Lizzie stared at the phone in Evan’s hand, utterly confused.
“Do you mean my son, Daniel?”
“Yes. You undoubtedly don’t remember, but I helped you bring that little angel into the world.”
Lizzie continued to stare at the phone, her mouth open. “Wait. Graves. Diane Graves? Were you my midwife? Oh my God!”
Evan could hear his mother’s quiet laughter.
“One and the same. I thought your name sounded familiar last night, so I Googled you. When I saw that stuff about your husband—I’m so sorry about all that, my dear—I remembered how I had checked your name against my database at the time of his death and found your records. According to my notes, your little boy should be twenty years old now.”
Lizzie was standing with a look of astonishment on her face, her arms wrapped around her middle as if she needed support.
“Yes, he is. And he’s wonderful. Thank you for helping him come to be.”
“My pleasure. I’m hoping that one of these days someone I brought into the world will do something magnificent, so I always check my lists. Evan? Are you still there?”
“Yes, Mom. I’m here.”
“Why don’t you wait a few hours and make sure Lizzie gets a car of some sort. Maybe you can drive her to a rental spot? You’re close to the airport, right?”
“Mother, is there anything wrong with your house alarm?”
“I don’t think so, sweetheart.”
“Does it have a new code?”
“No. Same as always.”
“Mother.” He spoke slowly, enunciating each syllable. “You told me last night I couldn’t come home because there was a new code.”
“Did I? I was very tired last night. I’m sorry if you were confused.”
Evan glared at the phone while Lizzie doubled over in silent laughter.
“Mother!”
“I have to go, honey. I really need to get the gardening done now before it gets too hot. Just take care of Lizzie, and come down later. Bye!”
The phone went dead.
Lizzie’s laughter exploded.
“Oh my God! I cannot believe it. I remember her now. She was so terrific when I was pregnant. She acted like every silly question I asked was important, and like I was the only patient she had to worry about. And she always made me laugh. She used to say that midwives had it easy because as soon as the baby started to cry, their job was done. I loved her.”
Evan shook his head and rolled his eyes.
Lizzie continued, “but I can’t believe she keeps records and was able to look me up so fast.”
“Oh, she became a research expert when my father
’s secrets came out. She had become a one-woman search engine long before Google even existed. Even today, she teaches me things she’s found on the Internet and sometimes learns of outbreaks in the world before I do.”
“Is she still a midwife?”
“No. She finally retired about ten years ago. She always liked working in a hospital, with doctors on call if there were problems, but regulations somehow got more complicated in the aughts, and she finally gave up.”
“Well, she was the best. I was sorry to lose touch after Daniel was born.”
“I know she was good. She’s part of the reason my sister went into medicine.”
“But it seems she might have missed her true calling as an actress. She can’t really have been that tired last night, could she?”
“Nope. I smelled a rat but couldn’t figure out what she could be up to, so I defaulted to believing her. I should know better by now. But she obviously got the scoop on you between our first conversation and when she called back and decided drastic measures were necessary.”
“But why?”
Evan shrugged. “I gave up trying to figure her out years ago.”
“Well, since you don’t have to race down there, I’ll put the kettle on.”
Evan pointed to the piece of paper. “That’s perfect. It says absolutely everything we want.”
Lizzie blushed. “It just makes sense.”
“I said what I said last night because our newsletter editor resigned last week. Both her parents died from the virus, and she said she needed distance and had too much she had to take care of.”
“Oh, that’s terrible.”
“It is. We’re not Johns Hopkins when it comes to Covid updates, but we do a lot of valuable work and disseminate a good deal of useful information. We need someone who can write and edit under pressure.”