And Then You

by Amanda Richardson

  I let myself look up at Nick, and he just looks at me blankly. Whatever emotion was there last night is gone.

  She drags me upstairs before I can say anything to him, and I notice that he doesn’t follow us upstairs. I take my flats off by her door and put the DVD in, and then I crawl into bed with her, and we get all snuggled up under the covers. I’m excited to show her this movie. It’s one of my favorites.

  As the movie progresses, I try not to think about Nick, but it’s impossible. I expected him to say something about last night, but he just looked at me indifferently. I hate myself for it, but I secretly wished he would watch the movie with us. I can’t help but enjoy his company.

  Towards the middle of the movie, Bria’s door opens, and Nick comes in with popcorn. He sits next to Bria, as far away from me as possible, and leans back, watching the movie with us. I don’t say anything, and neither does he. In fact, I don’t even look at him, and I can tell that he’s not looking at me, either. The only exciting thing that happens is when we both go for the popcorn, and our hands touch briefly. But he pulls his hand back so fast, I wanted to scream at him: I know! I fucking get it!

  The movie ends, and Bria stiffens next to me. I look down at her, and her face is scrunched up in confusion.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, concerned I somehow permanently scarred her by showing her the movie. Perhaps it was too scary?

  “Do you think I’ll love thomeone thomeday?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Nick looks down at her, concerned.

  “I hope thomeone will love me like the beast loveth Belle,” she says, and her voice is so quiet and tiny, I have to keep from laughing.

  “Bria, you’re only five. You have years to fall in love. It’ll happen, and it will be amazing.”

  “Will it be like the movie?”

  I look at Nick for guidance, but he’s looking down at his hands.

  “Yes,” I whisper. “It might even be better.”

  She adjusts herself in the bed. “Good.”

  “But,” Nick says, speaking up. “Real love doesn’t happen like Beauty and the Beast, sweetie. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  “It could,” I add, glaring at Nick. “It’s possible.”

  Nick gets up out of the bed abruptly.

  “No, it’s not, Evianna. I’d appreciate it if you would stop filling her head with unrealistic fairy tales.”

  My mouth hangs open, and a few replies to his rude comment come quickly to mind, though I can’t say them in front of Bria.

  “Anything is possible, Nick. God, she’s five. Let her believe in fairytales.”

  Nick shoots me a death look. I don’t want to admit it, but it’s kind of hot. He squats down on the edge of the bed and looks Bria in the eyes.

  “Real life doesn’t work out like Disney movies, Bria. Real life is hard, and sometimes you lose people, and sometimes you’re really sad. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  Bria’s lip trembles slightly, and I want to punch Nick.

  “Nick? Can I talk to you in private?” I can hardly contain my anger.

  I’m shaking when I meet him outside of her door. I shut it quickly and spin around.

  “What the hell?” I hiss. “She’s five years old, Nick! Let her believe in the goddamn movie!”

  “Stay out of it, Evianna. She’s my daughter, and I’ll raise her to believe whatever the hell I want her to believe. I don’t appreciate you spewing romantic, unrealistic ideas for her to latch onto. She’s already had enough grief in her life. She doesn’t need another reason to be disappointed,” he shouts.

  “Why can’t you just let her believe? What’s the harm in believing?”

  “Because it’s not real! Jesus, Evianna. What are you trying to teach her?”

  “I’m trying to teach her to believe in fairytales! I’m trying to teach her to believe in magic, and romance, and happy endings. So what if real life doesn’t work out like that? She’s five, and she deserves to believe that one day she will love someone with all of her heart, and that there’s nothing wrong with that. I was raised to believe that, and I’m glad I was. I’m glad my father didn’t shoot down every single Disney movie that I watched. You should be teaching your daughter that real love is out there. Not Disney love—real love. The kind of love that makes Disney movies a complete joke in comparison. The kind of love that takes over everything. That’s what Bria should believe in. It’s the only thing to believe in. Even if she gets her heart broken one day—it’s worth it. Real love is always worth it.”

  I’m out of breath when I finish, and Nick just stares down at me. His nostrils are flaring, and I can tell that he has a thousand retorts for me.

  “Never knew you were so optimistic, Evianna,” he says quietly.

  “Never knew you were so pessimistic, Nicholas.”

  I spin around, ready to leave, but Nick grabs my arm. He pulls me close to him, but not close enough so that we’re touching—though we are only a few inches away. We’re both breathing heavily, and his eyes are slightly dilated. He doesn’t let go of my arm.

  “Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable, Nick,” I say quietly. “For the sake of your daughter.”

  I whip my arm out of his grip, and I jog down the stairs and out into the backyard. Before he can chase me, I run into my kitchen and grab my purse. I go out to the driveway and walks towards my car. Tears are running down my face, and I’m not sure why. I just know that I have to leave.

  Twenty-three.

  Nick

  I walk back into Bria’s room, and she’s watching me intently. I’ve never been good at hiding my feelings around her. Or perhaps she’s just perceptive.

  “Why were you and Evi fighting?” she asks nervously.

  “We weren’t fighting, sweetie. We just had a disagreement.”

  “Like when you and Mommy used to yell?”

  I laugh.

  “Yes, like when me and Mommy used to yell.”

  When someone dies, you forget about all of the unsavory times. You forget about all of the disagreements and fights over the stupid shit. You think they’re the most perfect person after they’re gone, and you fail to remember the hard times.

  Isabel and I used to fight over stupid shit all the time.

  I was just lucky because we used to love each other so much more to make up for it.

  “Why were you disagreeing?”

  I look down at her, and she’s looking at me knowingly. I swallow my pride and look down at her, smiling.

  “Evianna was just teaching me an important lesson.”

  “What lethon?”

  “Something I stopped believing in a long time ago.”

  “What’s that?”

  Damn. She’s genuinely curious. She definitely inherited Isabel’s inquisitiveness.

  “True love.”

  Twenty-four.

  Evianna

  I show up at my parents’ house twenty minutes later, and I fix myself up a bit before heading inside. As I open the front door, something small and hard hits me.

  A nerf dart.

  “Elijah!” I yell, looking around for the little monster. I hear giggling from the corner of the living room, and I tiptoe over, ready to pounce. “Rawr!” I yell just as my eyes lock on his.

  He leaps up and tackles me, and we both fall to the floor. I bring him in for a bear hug.

  “Missed you, bugger,” I say.

  “Missed you, too,” he groans reluctantly before squirming out from underneath me. “Mom’s making lasagna,” he adds before walking out of the room.

  I smile and sit on the floor, taking in my surroundings. I really miss it here. I didn’t expect to. I never missed it when I was in college, but my three months here after the breakup really brought me closer to my family.

  “Evianna? Is that you?” I hear my mom shout from the kitchen.

  “Yeah,” I yell back, standing up.

  My mother comes around the corner w
ith oven mitts on her hands and stares at me.

  “You’re early,” she scolds. “I just put the lasagna in. It won’t be ready for another hour.”

  “That’s okay,” I say, and much to my displeasure, my lip starts to tremble.

  “Sweetie, what’s wrong?” she says softly as she walks over. “Do you want to talk?” I nod my head quickly, reverting back to a child, clearly.

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Okay. Give me a minute.” She scurries off, and I sit down on the sofa—the same one we’ve had since I was a baby. It’s light blue, and it has all sorts of stains on it, but I swear it’s the comfiest couch ever. She scuttles back in and brushes her hands together, ready to get down to business. “So, tell me what’s wrong.”

  I groan. “That’s the thing. I don’t even know.”

  “Dan? Violet?”

  “No, not them. It’s Nick.” She doesn’t say anything. She just watches me and nods. “I don’t… I just… I’m confused.”

  “Mmm.” That’s all she says.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” she replies, and her mouth slowly forms a small smile.

  “What?” I repeat, this time a little louder. “Go on, lay it on me.”

  “Honey, I’m not going to lay anything on you. It’s just… I told you so.”

  I swat her arm. “Your favorite four words,” I say snarkily. “I told you so,” I mock.

  “Well? Didn’t I?”

  “Mom! That’s not the point! This is bad, so bad.”

  “Why?” She looks at me with concern. “Why is it such a bad thing?”

  “Because of Bria? Because he’s seven years older than me? Because he’s my employer?” I shout.

  “Oh, nonsense! Your father is five years older than me. Age is just a number, and seven isn’t that big of a difference.”

  “Okay, well… it still won’t work.”

  “Won’t? Why are you so sure it won’t? How will you ever know if you don’t try?”

  I look up at her, and I imagine it for a minute.

  Nick and I together.

  Nick and Bria and I together.

  Kissing Nick, sleeping in the same bed as Nick, making love to Nick… my cheeks flush.

  “What’s all the commotion?” my dad asks, coming into the living room. He’s wearing sweatpants and drinking a beer. “Oh! Evi! Hello, darling.” He comes over and kisses me on the forehead. His face crinkles with worry. “What’s wrong?”

  “Evi’s in love with her employer,” my mother answers casually.

  “Mom!” I shout. “No, Dad, that’s not what Mom meant—”

  “Good guy?” he asks, looking at me with stern consternation.

  The question catches me off guard.

  “Erm, yes, he’s a great guy, but—”

  “Okay, then.” He nods his head. And then he walks away, as if Nick being a “good guy” is the only question he needs to ask.

  I hunker down into the couch further, and I put my head in my mother’s lap.

  “Evianna, I know it’s confusing. But it’s not the worst thing in the world.”

  “I know,” I say quietly. “I just wish it could’ve been anyone else. Anyone but Nick. But it’s not. It’s him, and he’s so important to me, and he’s been through so much. How did this happen?”

  “The best things are unexpected, Ev.”

  “The most confusing things, you mean,” I retort. “I should just quit.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t quit. You have Mexico in a few weeks.”

  “Oh, crap,” I groan. “I totally forgot about that. I don’t think I can go.”

  “Evianna Marie Hall… I did not teach you to run away from your problems. I taught you to take a chance, to believe in magic, and most importantly, to listen to your heart. Can you honestly tell me that quitting your job would make you happier?”

  “No,” I reply quietly. “But it’ll make everything easier.”

  “Doing nothing is easy. That’s why so many people do it.”

  I sit there silently as she strokes my hair.

  “What do you think I should do?”

  “Well… has he professed his feelings?”

  “No, not verbally. But he punched Dan.”

  “What?” She sits up and stares at me. “Seriously?”

  I laugh. “Yes. We saw Dan and Mia at a restaurant yesterday, and Dan had some choice words for me, and Nick went after him and punched him. Clocked him real good,” I say, smiling.

  “Good man, indeed,” my mother says breathlessly. “I like him so much already.”

  “And he hugged me,” I add. “He’s never said anything outright, but the way he looks at me, and acts around me… it’s not one-sided.”

  “Okay, well there’s probably a reason he hasn’t told you.”

  “Maybe because it’s highly inappropriate?”

  “Evianna, stop with this whole employer-employee thing, okay?” Her words shock me. “You are two people who happen to work together. But you’re two human people, and humans are emotional creatures. Don’t think of him as your boss. You met because of that, but you are falling in love with the person he is, regardless of his relationship to you.”

  I look at my mother, and she smiles, brushing her hair behind her ears.

  “When did you get so wise, Mom?” I ask, and she giggles.

  “I’ve always been wise, darling.”

  “Guess so,” I say.

  “Just wait it out. There’s nothing you can do at this point. Wait and see what happens. I already know what you want. Now you just have to wait for Nick to admit that he wants the same thing.”

  Twenty-five.

  Evianna

  The next morning, I wake up feverish. I crawl out of bed and hunt for my thermometer, but I don’t remember where I put it when I unpacked. I debate going into the main house to find one, but I decide to stay in, just in case I infect anyone. I check the clock—7:00 a.m.—and decide to textNick. Hopefully Cecelia can cover for me.

  Me: Woke up feverish. Can Cecelia cover today?

  Nick: I’m home today. There’s this thing called Columbus Day. You might’ve heard of it. I’ll bring you some soup for lunch. Feel better. That’s an order!

  Me: Ok, thank you. Noneed for the soup. I have some canned chicken noodle somewhere around here. I wouldn’t want to infect you with whatever illness I happen to have. Hey… that’s what Christopher Columbus should’ve said to the Native Americans. How ironic. You know… because it’s Columbus Day.:)

  Nick: Canned chicken soup is the saddest thing ever. I’ll bring some by around noon. I don’t care if I get sick. You’re worth it.

  My heart stops dead when I read his text.

  You’re worth it?

  Maybe he didn’t mean it in the way that I’m thinking he meant it… maybe he just meant it in a friendly way. My eyes scan over the words again, trying to will their meaning out of them via my phone screen.

  Before long, another text from Nick pops up.

  That came out wrong. I just meant that you’re worth it because your health is important to me, as my employee. Get some rest. See you at noon.

  I stare at this text twice as long.

  Ouch.

  I angrily throw my phone to the other side of the bed and pull the covers over my head. My head is pounding, and I feel too sick to contemplate Nick’s hidden meanings right now. I just want to go back to sleep.

  *

  A few hours later, I wake up and look around, surprised. I almost never sleep in anymore, and I don’t feel as sick as I did earlier this morning. The pounding in my head is gone, and I don’t feel jittery and weak anymore. I glance at my phone. It’s half past eleven.

  I slowly get out of bed and take off my clothes. I hop in the shower and discover that if I move too quickly, the pounding comes back. I stand under the stream of hot water for what feels like forever. The steam feels so good.

  I dry off and throw on a pair of sweatpan
ts and an old college sweatshirt. I didn’t wash my hair, so I just brush it through and leave it down—I’m honestly too weak to even attempt to do anything other than to just let it be. I brush my teeth quickly, and when I feel borderline presentable, I go into the kitchen for a glass of water.

  I try not to think of Nick’s text, but his words keep regurgitating in my mind.

  You’re worth it. You’re worth it. You’re worth it.

  He meant nothing by it. He even said so in his follow-up text. It was nothing, just a stupid remark. Right?

  I try to drink the glass down, but I can only stomach a few sips. I glance around and wonder if I should tidy up for Nick, but I settle on opening a window and lighting a candle. It probably smells like a sick person in here—stuffy and warm. Ick.

  Someone knocks on the door around noon, and I shuffle over in my slippers to answer it. At this point, I just don’t care how I look, or how the apartment looks. I feel like complete crap again. Now I understand why my mother always had me stay in bed when I was sick. Doing things always made me feel worse.

  I swing the door open, and Nick is there, holding a large bowl of soup and a large glass of water. He’s wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, and I notice that he’s barefoot. He also hasn’t shaved, and his scruff and the flannel shirt are an intoxicating mix of manly and sexy.

  “Hey,” he says. “Bria’s watching Beauty and the Beast again, so I thought this was a good time to drop off some soup.”

  “Be careful. She might start to believe in love,” I say, and I’m impressed with my quick wit, considering my head feels like it’s in a cloud right now.

  He just laughs and shakes his head. “Too late.”

  “Thank you,” I say, reaching for the soup. “Want to come in?”

  He doesn’t say anything. He only walks in and closes the door behind him, and I realize he intended to come in no matter what. That’s why he plunked Bria in front of the TV.

  “How are you feeling?” he asks, and I see his hand itching to touch me. I don’t know why I know that, but it moves weirdly at his side, and he keeps looking at my forehead. “Still have a fever?”