Evvie Drake Starts Over(46)

“No problem at all,” Evvie said. “It’s good to see you.”

“You, too,” Monica said with a smile. “I appreciate your letting me barge in on your tradition. I know it’s a special thing.”

“Hey, I’m glad Andy could make the time.” No, no, no, that’s not what I meant to say. “The more the merrier,” she added, which didn’t sound right either. This made her 0-for-2. “I recommend the blueberry pancakes, even though Andy is a sucker for the ham and cheese omelet.”

“Oh, believe me, I know,” Monica said.

Just then, Marnie came by the table. She set down a cup with a teabag in it and a little pot of hot water in front of Monica. “Good to see all of you here together!” Marnie said. “Food order’s in for all of you, be a few minutes,” she said as she filled Andy’s coffee cup.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you’d been coming here, that was dumb,” Evvie said, straightening the napkin in her lap. Andy was looking at his phone.

   “Andy’s a creature of habit,” Monica put in on his behalf. “I wanted to tell you, by the way, we drove by your house the other day and I couldn’t stop talking about how great-looking it is. I think your porch is glorious.”

Eveleth laughed. “That’s very nice of you. You should come sit on it sometime.” She squinted. “That came out weird.”

“No, not at all. Please come sit on mine, too, although it’s considerably less attractive.” Andy reached over and threaded his fingers through Monica’s.

“How’ve you been, Ev?” he asked.

She reached for that rope. Really reached for it. “I’ve been good. I finally watched some of The Americans, by the way.”

He smiled. “Was I right about it?”

“You were, you were.” Evvie nodded slowly.

“You don’t think it’s ‘propaganda’?” he asked, his eyes flickering over to Monica’s.

“Oh my God,” Monica broke in, rolling her eyes, “I’m sorry I didn’t like your show. Talk to Evvie. She liked it.” She playfully yanked her hand away, but Andy kissed it and then pulled it, clasped in his, somewhere under the table. “He is a baby about television.”

Eveleth smiled. “I know. How are the girls?”

“Ah, they’re good,” Andy said. “Their mom is marrying Fred, by the way.”

“Holy shit,” Eveleth muttered. “She’s finally marrying him?”

“Fortunately, the girls like him all right these days. It would be way dicier if they didn’t. It’s one of the reasons we waited a couple months before they met this one.” He tipped his head to the side.

“Oh, so you have been getting to know them,” she said to Monica.

“I have,” Monica said. “They’re great. But you know that better than I do. They’re not happy it’s been so long since they got to spend time with you.” Her eyes flicked toward Andy, and his answered, a little.

   A couple more silences, a couple more volleys of nothing, and Marnie brought the food—Eveleth’s pancakes, Andy’s omelet, and something for Monica that looked like a veggie scramble. She did seem like a veggie scramble kind of person—very sensible. Very healthy. Not some cottage-cheese showoff, just a person who was more grown-up than anyone at the table who might be eating, for instance, pancakes.

They ate and talked: Eveleth and Monica talked, and Monica and Andy talked. And when most of the food was gone, Monica excused herself. “I’ll be right back,” she said, bumping Andy’s shoulder so he’d get up and let her out of the booth. When she was gone, Evvie picked at a blueberry on the edge of her plate. “She seems amazing.” She rested her chin on her hand and looked at him. “It’s good?”

He smiled. “It’s so good, Ev. I mean, it’s still early. But yeah, she’s great, I’m happy. And I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I’ve been, you know. I’m trying to be a good boyfriend. Weekends are busy, it’s been a lot. I felt bad. I was afraid you’d think I was upset about the thing we talked about at your house, about the suitcase and everything.”

Evvie felt her cheeks get pink. “I wondered, yeah.”

“I’m sorry. I admit it blew my mind a little bit. I don’t know.”

“I didn’t mean to do that,” she said. He laughed nervously, with one narrow strip of his voice, and Evvie felt so sharply the distance that had opened that there was a stinging in her eyes and her throat got slightly tight and, just, no. She coughed instead. “Dean’s going to teach me how to pitch.”

“Oh, really?” Andy laughed. “It seems like you guys are having fun.”

She knew it was an opening; the right time to talk about the go sign and the dishes. But those things, for now, were her only secret that faced forward instead of backward. If she told, it would shatter the slight mischief of it, like drinking bourbon from a coffee mug. Besides, she couldn’t think of a single thing he could say in response—go for it, be careful, tell me everything—that she’d know how to answer. So she said, “You were right; it’s nice to have the company. It keeps me from sitting around by myself.”

   “Just don’t try to fix him. I know how you are.”