“You look great,” he said.
Scott, in a knit turtleneck and sport coat, with his receding hairline unapologetically gelled to one side, was such a cute liar.
He motioned for her to walk ahead of him to their table, pulled out her chair, put his hand on her back as she sank into the tufted seat as if to make sure she didn’t drown in the white tablecloth. Evie smoothed the napkin on her lap for something to do, tucking it just under the hem of her gray silk blouse. At five foot four, her legs never made a ninety-degree angle when she sat at attention, so cloth napkins had an annoying way of sliding to the floor.
“I’m glad you wanted to see me. I’m sorry it couldn’t be last weekend,” Scott said, folding his hands on his closed menu. He leaned forward just a few inches, an attentive gesture Evie had forgotten. She swatted her hair from her shoulder, and the dos and don’ts of dating resurfaced as if they’d been waiting on the bench to be called into the game. Smile. Keep it light. Keep it light. Focus on the positive.
“You got called away, I understand.” It didn’t matter where he was or what he was doing, he had wanted to see her, and now she was on a date.
“Good! Now tell me what’s going on with you.”
“I applied for a job at County College,” she said, genuine excitement resonating in her words. “To teach history.”
“That would be perfect for you.”
He was right. And he knew Evie well enough to be right.
“I hope you get it,” he added. “I’ve been known to have crushes on my teachers.” Scott reached across the table, tapped Evie’s hand, and slid his hand into it. With the other hand he then opened his menu, his eyes zigzagging across the page too fast to be reading it. Evie’s heart thumped in her ears. The back of her neck perspired. “How are your kids?” he said without looking up but with a little squeeze.
A hollow dread replaced the fluttering in Evie’s chest. She dropped her gaze to the list of appetizers. He didn’t want to hear about the nights she’d lain awake waiting for Sam to throw up or the mornings she pored over scores of websites hoping to find an extra dollar coupon or the job of the century. It wasn’t easy to explain the strange connection with Nicole or how she had begun noticing nuances about Luca. Scott might have insight into Midwest Mutual’s runaround, but did he really need to know her finances were a mess? Like her reflection in the shop window, Evie’s thoughts revealed what people feared most.
The truth.
Scott’s and Evie’s knees touched beneath the table. She didn’t know if it was an accident or a nudge but didn’t take it as a push to purge.
“Things are getting a little better every day,” she said. That wasn’t a lie. It was enough. And it was what people wanted to hear.
“I’m glad.”
“So,” Evie said, invoking one of the most important rules of dating, the one she wished more men adhered to. Turn it around. “Tell me what’s going on with you.”
Scott’s flair for storytelling rivaled his knack for listening. Evie laughed through her salad course. Their linked fingers stayed attached atop a few scattered bread crumbs until the waiter arrived with their entrées. Evie’s cheeks ached with evidence of happiness, her long-lost friend. It was good to be out with Scott; Lisa was right. Belly full of laughs and dinner, she could admit that. Maybe they would pick up where they’d left off with the rugelach, and maybe dates would always be as easy as a cheap dye job and two willing babysitters.
Then her phone buzzed in her purse.
Evie deflated. “Excuse me,” she said, glancing at the phone. Home. She didn’t ignore it but pretended to.
“You should answer it. I don’t mind.” Scott tore a piece of bread and searched the table landscape for the pats of butter, which were right in front of him. She and Scott had never experienced kid intrusions on their weekends before because the kids were with Richard. Scott didn’t know Evie the mom, only Evie the woman. And she knew more than ever before the two Evies were not always the same person.
“I do mind. We’re having a nice dinner and I don’t want to change that.” She smiled and poked her fork into something beige, then pushed it off the fork. Interruptions were not good for the appetite. She felt as though she’d disappointed him—and didn’t like that feeling. It was hard to date men without children. They didn’t get it. Or that was what Evie told herself so she could blame someone besides her kids.
The phone buzzed seven more times. “I’m sorry. I need to call home.”
Standing in the ladies’ room, Evie dialed Beth’s cell phone.
“What’s going on there?” Evie said without saying hello.
“Nothing,” Beth said. “We’re doing great. Why did you call? Go back to Scott and have fun.”
“My phone keeps ringing.”
“Hold on a sec.”
As if holding on while standing in the bathroom of Café Rosa were better than actually talking on the phone in the bathroom.
“Nicole said she didn’t call you. It must be your kids calling from the basement phone. They keep going down to bring up new toys for Luca to play with. Hold on.”
Evie felt her whole life was like this phone call.
“Yep, it’s your kids. They want to say good night. I’ll hold out the phone and they can do it at the same time.”
Evie pictured Beth giving the twins a one-two-three signal, then heard, “Good night, Mom!”
“Did you hear them?”
“The whole bathroom heard them.”
“You’re in the bathroom? Get back to dinner! I’ll be here with Nic when you get home—we’re going to get the kids all into bed then have a glass of wine.”
Nic? Wine? Maybe Evie should go home.
“Ev?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry the kids called. They’re fine, really. You go have fun and don’t think about any of us.”
Beth had surely lost her mind.
* * *
Scott stood when Evie returned to the table. Impeccable manners. Tailored clothes. Straight teeth and an Ultra Brite smile. Evie sat and hoped the noise from scooting in her chair masked her audible sigh of delight mixed with fear.
“Everything okay?”
“The kids just aren’t used to me going out. They wanted to say good night.”
“That’s nice.” Scott looked left, then right, then right at Evie. “They could get used to it, right?” he said, eyes stretched wide with childlike anticipation.
Evie almost agreed, but the truth cut in line. Anyone she dated would have to acclimate to the way things were—just like her parents and Lisa and Laney. Two kids, no dad. A widow and a baby. Everyone stubborn enough to stick around was figuring it out along the way—just like her. Evie shrugged.
Scott smiled not out of happiness, but understanding. “Your life isn’t getting back to normal anytime soon, is it?” He reached across the table and cradled her cheek the way she’d seen in the movies, but this was not going to end with happily ever after. His fingers trailed away but left an indelible mark.
“No,” Evie said.
Scott looked away, then right at her. “It’s so complicated.”
“I know.”
“Too complicated.”
“I know.”
“I can’t—”
“I know,” she interrupted, and lifted both her eyebrows so high her temples tightened. Then, once she released, Evie’s neck muscles loosened. Her arms and legs softened. Evie looked at Scott. He had an inherent ease about him, even now. He looked the way she felt. Without the weight of more wondering about what-ifs and maybes, perhaps she’d stop thinking and just enjoy the evening out—and Scott.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
Evie shimmied up her seat. “You know what? I am.” She took his hand and squeezed to prove she meant it.
Scott held on. “Do you have a curfew?” He signed the credit-card slip with his free hand and closed the black folder.
“Nope.” Evie quipped, “The troops said I could stay
out as late as I want. I guess I’m being rewarded for good behavior.”
Scott chuckled as he stood, pulling Evie with him in a dance move. “Well now, that works for me.”
“Me too,” she said, allowing herself to be kissed tableside.
“We’ll put more time on the meter and come back for your car later, okay?” It wasn’t a question.
Evie nodded and leaned in for another kiss.
A girl had a right to some dessert.
* * *
Evie walked into the house at two A.M. She assumed Nicole would be asleep on the sofa. She did not expect to find Beth and Laney sitting on the couch playing gin rummy.
“Welcome home,” Beth said, laying down a hand of fours. “Gin.” She looked at Evie.
“What are you doing?”
“This one came to her senses around eleven,” Laney said, stacking and shuffling the deck. “She told Nicole to go downstairs and she called me.”
“In Nic’s defense, she wanted to stay up and wait, but I convinced her she needed her sleep.”
“Plus I was coming over. I think I scare her.”
“You think?” Evie sat on the arm of the sofa. “Why are you here?”
“To keep Beth company while you’re out gallivanting around Chicago,” Laney said with a wink.
“I am so sorry! I thought Beth would go home and Nicole would fall asleep out here until I got home. I didn’t think you’d wait up for me like you were my parents or something.” Evie was touched. And mortified.
“She’s kidding! Do not apologize,” Beth said. “The kids were fine and we were fine.”
“And from the looks of it, Scott was fine too,” Laney said.
Beth swatted Laney. “Did you have fun?”
“Did she have fun? Look at her.”
Evie ran her hands through her hair. She hadn’t considered trying to tuck in her blouse or even make sure it was correctly buttoned. She’d assumed she would slip into the house and into bed unnoticed. She had assumed wrong.
Good thing wrong felt very right.
“When are you going to see him again?” Beth said while clapping without making a sound. “Want to triple-date?”
“I’m not dating him.”
“What do you mean you’re not dating him?”
“What do you mean, what do I mean? I’m not dating him. He’s a great guy, but it doesn’t work. Not now anyway.”
“But you did sleep with him, right?” Laney said. “Because if you didn’t, you should know, disheveled is not a good look for you.”
“Yes, I did,” Evie said, less embarrassed, more empowered than moments before. She shifted her skirt to the right position with the zipper in the back.
Laney presented her palm to Beth, who shook her head and handed over a dollar.
Chapter 13
EVIE WAITED FOR NICOLE AND Luca at the front door of the Lakewood Sports Center. Evie had brought the twins early—Sophie to practice with her team and Sam to hang out with his friends, like regular kids. Evie liked when it was just three. The instantly larger family of five had its benefits beyond the financial, but sometimes she wanted the twins to herself, even if they were nowhere nearby.
The ecofriendly building housed four gyms, and at nine A.M. the place buzzed with a five P.M. vibe, including parents in designer combat gear vying for the best seats on the bleachers.
Evie watched Nicole as she approached the building. She bounced as she walked, her head bobbing in a sea of parents and kids and strollers.
“Want me to push?” Evie asked.
Nicole stepped aside and Evie marched behind the stroller.
“Did you have fun last night?” Nicole asked.
“I did.” Evie was getting comfortable sharing her house, but not her personal life.
“Beth told me you saw that guy. The one I met at shiva? I’m glad for you.”
Evie would talk to Beth about discretion. “It was just dinner, we’re not dating.”
“Oh.” Nicole clamped her mouth shut.
“Let’s go find Sophie’s team.”
They walked down a long, glossy hallway past gymnasiums and bathrooms and down another long hallway past classrooms and the beloved concession stand to the Blue Gym. Sophie’s team was playing in a fifth-grade-girls, double-elimination tournament. The screech of basketball shoes on the highly polished, paid-for-with-your-tax-dollars floors along with the jumbled conversations of parents escaped the open door. Evie knew many parents silently prayed for a loss so they could go home and get on with their day. Evie also knew many more prayed for a win. It didn’t matter that all kids under twelve walked away with a “real” medal and coupons for free pizza and pop; or that Lakewood’s version of March Madness was intended as a respite from the harsh Chicago winter. The daylong extravaganza was more about community spirit than the number of basketballs dunked. Evie hoped everyone remembered that as she stepped into the gym, Nicole by her side, Luca as their point guard.
Sam sat alone on one end of the first row of bleachers, a big T-shirt draped over his shoulders like a tallis, a Jewish prayer shawl.
“Why are you sitting here?” Evie said.
This was not what she had planned. She looked around the gym and saw familiar faces, but not the fifth-grade-boy faces she expected. “Where are your friends?”
Sam shrugged and whipped the shirt off his neck and pushed it into Evie’s hands. She shifted the stroller back to Nicole and scooted next to her son. As Sam reached out his hand and touched hers, Evie’s arms tingled as the blood drained. Richard’s shirt.
“This is Dad’s shirt,” Sam said.
Evie remembered Richard had signed up to coach Sophie’s team for this event. Which insensitive ass had given Sam the shirt?
“I remembered he was supposed to coach so I asked Soph to get it for me.”
Evie put her arm around Sam and he leaned on her hard. She glanced at the bench—girls in blue and yellow, lined up in front of two familiar Lakewood dads wearing shirts identical to Sam’s. The coach-dads were bent forward, hands on their knees, mouths moving in pep-talk fashion as they primed their weekend, ponytailed athletes.
“Do you want me to keep it for you?” Evie asked.
“For a second.” Sam twisted his arms, removed his hoodie, and thrust it at Evie inside out. He snatched the T-shirt with solemnity and pulled it over his head, further mussing his hair. The shirt reached to Sam’s knees like a dress.
“Go find your friends, sweetie.” Evie’s shoulder tickled as she felt Nicole watching them, taking notes perhaps, and filing them away for future use.
Sam walked away without enthusiasm, but at least he walked away. She settled onto the first row of bleachers, leaving the end for Nicole and the stroller. With the bustle of the parent-fans around her, she closed her eyes to rest them—just for a second. Or so she thought.
“Sleeping on the job, Evie?”
Evie flinched, opened her eyes, and was face-to-face with Darcy Levin, Lakewood yenta extraordinaire. By noon everyone would know Evie was snoozing before the game. Conjecture would be she’d had trouble sleeping, which wasn’t true. She just had trouble waking up. The inside of Evie’s mouth was woolly and dry, but her lips and chin were wet. She was drooling.
“Hi, Darcy,” she said, surreptitiously wiping her chin on her shirt before lifting her head.
Darcy eyed Luca.
Evie sat straighter and noticed the gym was more full than when she’d entered. She had actually dozed off. And drooled. Had she snored? Whimpered? Talked? Evie looked around. No one was even looking in her direction. She tapped Nicole’s arm. “How long have I been asleep?”
“Five minutes. I figured you needed the nap, but don’t worry, I wasn’t going to let you sleep through the game.”
Maybe Nicole should have jostled her so Evie could appear to be like the rest of the parents—ones who didn’t fall asleep at basketball tournaments because they weren’t out until 2:00 A.M. having good-bye sex with their now-ex-nonboyfr
iend.
Maybe Nicole wanted Evie to look like a slacker.
“Oh, here,” Nicole said, digging into her diaper bag. “I brought you a bottle of water.”
Darcy cleared her throat, unaccustomed to serving as an unwelcome third wheel. “This must be the baby.”
“This is Luca, and this is Nicole,” Evie said. “But you know that.”
“Oh, forgive me for being rude,” Darcy said. “We met at shiva. Your house is lovely by the way, if I didn’t mention it then. I heard you rented your house to another professor from Pinehurst. When are you leaving Lakewood?”
“Thank you, it is a nice house,” Nicole said, unfazed. “We’re not leaving.”
Darcy looked around the gym as if searching for words Evie knew were in her back pocket.
“Lakewood is a great place to raise children,” Evie said, nodding.
“It’s just strange that she, uh, Nicole, wouldn’t want to be near her family at a time like this,” Darcy said, staring wide-eyed at Evie, trying to interject subtext that Evie ignored.
“She—is right here. And what’s strange about wanting to raise your child in a nice town near Chicago—at a time like this?”
“Nothing, I guess.” Darcy raised her eyebrows at Evie.
Evie wiped the back of her finger across her eyebrows as if Darcy were telling her she had something on her face.
The yenta sighed.
“What’s wrong, Darcy?” Evie asked.
“I heard a rumor. And you know how I hate it when rumors litter our little community.”
Nicole swiveled away. Evie put her hand on Nicole’s shoulder and turned her toward them. “You don’t have to turn away. Anything Darcy has to tell me is fine for you to hear, especially if it’s something she wants to tell me in the middle of a loud, noisy gym during a family event.”
“Oh, sure. I just don’t want people saying things that aren’t true—especially when they’re so outlandish.”
“Well, if it’s that good, please don’t keep it to yourself.”
Darcy leaned in for the gossip kill. “People are saying that she’s staying with you. Permanently.” Darcy stood straight and held her hands out in front of her. “I know, it’s a funny thing to say, but I heard it. Twice. Such a pity when people concoct things for their own amusement.”
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