Leo's Chance(17)

I long to share my feelings with Evie, to talk about how incredible it is for the two of us to be sitting here in this place, after where we came from. It’s our connection and she would understand like no one else could. The fact that I can’t leaves me feeling empty.

As we sip our wine, I say, "So tell me about your friend Nicole."

Her eyes warm and she says, "I met Nicole at work. She's my best friend and I guess you could say her and her husband Mike have kind of adopted me." She laughs.

I smile at her and she continues, "I spend holidays with them, things like that. It's nice. I never had that before I met Nicole." She takes a sip of her wine and looks slightly embarrassed.

"Where did you spend holidays before that?" I ask. Why? Just to torture myself?

Her eyes dart to mine and she says quietly, "After I got out of foster care, before I really got to know Nicole and her family, I spent them alone." She shrugs.

I'm quiet for a minute, hoping she doesn't see the sorrow in my eyes that I feel in my heart. "I'm sorry, Evie."

She smiles. "Why? It wasn't your fault. It was… lonely. But it wasn't the worst of what I've gone through, Jake." I frown and she pauses, tilting her head. "Wait, I thought we were supposed to be talking about lighter stuff." She smiles.

I find it in me to smile back, even though her comment about it not being my fault is echoing in my head. It's entirely my fault. "You're right. Nicole and Mike have a daughter?"

She grins and her eyes light up. Obviously the little girl is special to her. "Yes. Her name is Kaylee and she's the smartest, sweetest little thing in the world. She keeps us all in our places." She grins again.

Evie has surrounded herself with good people, people she loves and who love her back. I'm so happy to know that she has that in her life.

As we're eating, I ask about her job. She talks easily about it and laughs as she tells me a few funny stories about the worst things that people have accidentally left behind in a room she’s cleaned.

"I’ve found more false teeth than I can count," she laughs and so do I. "I mean, how do you forget your teeth? Wouldn’t you notice?" Her eyes warm as she’s looking into mine. I love this. I love sitting here laughing with her, getting to know her again. I don’t want it to end. A quiet voice in the back of my mind tells me that it probably will end when I tell her who I am. I feel my food trying to come back up my throat and swallow hard.

"You've done really well, Evie," I say, quietly. She has. Look at her, she has good friends, she takes care of herself, she’s a hard worker, she’s funny and warm and sweet.

She furrows her brows. "I'm a hotel maid, Jake," she says, as if I don’t already know this.

I think of all the people who grew up the way we did and how most of their lives turned out. I think of Willow. I think of myself. "Don’t ever be ashamed of the honest work you do to pay the rent. It's damn rare that someone who comes from the background you do, doesn't go on to repeat the cycle... drugs, early pregnancy, domestic abuse. Be proud of yourself. You deserve all the respect in the world. I think you’re incredible," I say honestly.

She stares at me, her eyes getting moist before she looks away and says quietly, "Thank you." I stare at her, watching her blink away the tears in her eyes. Has no one ever told her that she’s amazing? My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. If I’m given the chance, I vow to tell her at least once every day how incredible she is.

We’re both quiet for a minute when she says, "Can I ask you about Leo?" She looks at me nervously.

I snap back to reality. Shit. I hate this. "Of course," I answer, hesitantly.

"Was he happy? Did he have a good life?"

Keep this simple. I already feel like an * lying at all, no need to expand on it. I think about who I was before my accident and mix just a little bit of the truth into my lie. "I don't know how to answer that. I didn't know him very well. I mean, outside of sports and partying, that sort of thing."

She nods and takes a deep breath. She’s biting the inside of her mouth like she used to do when she was a kid. I know that’s her "tell" that she’s nervous or scared. "When he left, he promised he'd keep in touch and he never did. Do you have any idea why?" I think I see pain flash quickly in her eyes.

Yeah, I do. "His" life went to shit pretty immediately and he lived with a constant death wish for eight years. But he never stopped loving you. Not for a second.

"I'm sorry. I don't. I don't really know what his home life was like. And the first time he talked about you to me was in the hospital and I've told you the extent of what he said," is what I say instead. Fuck. I hate myself for not mustering up the courage to tell her the truth.

She nods and is silent for a minute but then she looks up at me and smiles shyly. "This might be a little bit of an odd thing to say, but, well, if he was going to send anyone, I'm glad it was you. I've had a nice time tonight."

Why does that hurt? Am I really jealous of myself? I push my f*cked up emotions aside and smile back at her and say, "I'm glad he sent me too. I thought I was doing him a favor, but it looks like he did me a favor."

After our plates are cleared, I reach across the table and take her hands in mine. "Can I take you out again?"