Evvie Drake Starts Over(55)

“I know.”

Eveleth leaned forward. “And he died.”

Dean looked confused. “I know. Did I say something wrong?”

“Nope.” She tapped her fingers on the counter behind her.

“Ah,” Dean suddenly said. “You’re saying just him.”

“Just him.”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

She pressed on. “So, I’m just saying.”

“You’re just saying what?”

Eveleth looked all around the room—ceiling, floor, stove, sink, cabinet, other cabinet, table—and then at him. “No warranties. Satisfaction not guaranteed.”

He busted out laughing. He put one arm around her waist and pulled on her until she stepped right to him. She was very aware that he seemed to look at her hairline, then her ear, then her cheek, and then her mouth, before he looked her right in the eye. “I’m not worried,” he whispered. And then he kissed her. The first one had been crazy, the second one had been quick, but this felt like the one that had been coming since they met. Kissing Dean was a lot like talking to him: it was easy. Well, it was easy and it made her want to rip her clothes off. So, still similar.

   “Maybe we should have a date,” he finally said.

“We already live together,” she said, looking at him sideways. “I don’t think you can go on a date with someone you live with.”

“We don’t live together,” he said. “You’re going up there”—he pointed—“and I’m going in there.” He pointed again. “That is not living together. Let me take you out.”

“Out where?”

He thought for a minute, tapping his finger on her hip. “Just dinner. Like regular people. Wherever you want.”

“That’s a good offer,” she said. “But maybe we should stay in. I don’t want everybody to gossip. It’s weird. You know I hate…people talking. We can order in. You usually hang out in the kitchen. We’ll eat in the living room.”

“I can do better than that,” he said. “What if we go out of town? Someplace where nobody’s going to care?”

“You’re pretty hot news right now. I’m not sure where that place would be.”

“I’ll figure it out. Someplace small, someplace we can drive to.” He pushed a lock of hair off her forehead. “Let me take you out,” he repeated.

She looked up at him, at his green eyes—gold flecks, thick lashes, such a stupid abundance of good genes—and that little scar he had. She said, “I would love that. When should we go?”

He smiled. “Good. I have to run practice after school Monday-Tuesday-Wednesday, so how about Thursday? Thursday dinner. We’ll leave at five since we’re going on the road.” She nodded, and he reached out and kissed the tip of her nose. “All right, Minnesota. Thank you again for everything. Fuck Freeport, and back at it Thursday.”

   She frowned as he headed for the apartment. “?‘Back at it’?”

He called out, “Or whatever,” and he shut his door. Apparently, a sense of mystery now had to be maintained.





THE NEXT DAY, EVVIE CALLED her father and asked if she could bring him some take-out chowder for dinner from Sophie’s. She’d spent the morning reading amazed news reports about how noted failure Dean Tenney had emerged in some tiny hamlet in Maine and pitched, for at least one inning, like he used to. Ellen Boyd had weighed in, as a matter of fact, referring to Dean’s reappearance as “miraculous, grading on a curve of Major League Baseball to exhibition games to raise money for the local PTA.” Eveleth hated the word “bitch” and tried to never use it herself, but she understood in occasional moments why other people liked it.

Her dad, of course, was delighted to have a visit, and when she pulled up a little after six, she saw him standing behind the screen door before she even got out of her car. Paper bag in hand, she climbed out and walked up the cracked stones to him. “Hey, Pop.”

“Hello, sweetheart.” He opened the screen door, and she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

“I got soup,” she told him, holding up the bag.

“Well, I got an appetite.”

He still ate at the kitchen table in the same house where she grew up. He wasn’t much of a decorator, so his house was a collection of old things, new things that replaced old things when they finally gave out, and new things that he sometimes allowed Eveleth to give him without objecting. He’d said nothing to her as often as he said “Keep your money” once Tim became a doctor.

   “Did you have fun at the game yesterday?” Her dad had been with buddies in a row of lawn chairs by left field.

“Are you kiddin’ me? Best Dance I ever went to. Weather was perfect.”

“The weather was perfect.”

“Won the game.” He waited for her to nod. “Didn’t expect to see Dean out there throwing.”

She smiled as they sat down across from each other. “No, that was sort of a surprise. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. It’s tricky, with all the attention, and with the press and everybody. He wanted to give it a shot and see how it went.”

“He’s feeling good about it?”