Seven Days in June(86)

What they had was inarguable, and Eva couldn’t fault him for falling back in love with her. But she did fault him for making her believe that he was ready for it.

And making Audre believe it.

She made place cards. She was so excited to see me excited.

Caught somewhere between her feelings of humiliation, rage, and sadness, Eva excused herself and headed to the ladies’. She felt tears coming and couldn’t let Audre see. Once she was in the bathroom, not a tear fell—staring in the mirror, she screwed her face up twelve different ways to no avail.

You colossal idiot, she told herself, her expression ice cold. How many times do you need to be taught this lesson?

Standing in line at the Delta checkin, Eva felt a pang of desperation at how much she’d miss her daughter. The past week had been a flurry of emergencies, but Audre, as always, would be all right. She had a place at Cheshire Prep next year. She’d have a ball with her dad all summer and maybe get (even more) radicalized at her stepmom’s woke spa. Maybe she’d have her first taste of puppy love. Without Eva by her side. But it was okay, because she knew that she was raising a strong, smart, self-possessed daughter who could fend for herself. Her baby was growing up.

Holding hands, Eva and Audre walked to the line at security. It was time for her baby’s summer to start. Eva swept Audre into a mighty, bone-crushing hug.

“Goodbye, my honey,” she said, letting go. “Have the best time, okay? And be safe.”

“I will—don’t worry,” Audre said with a smile. “And Mom?”

“Yes?”

“I know you made up the IKEA excuse for Shane. I know you’re sad he didn’t come. But give him a chance. He’s a good person. I know he is, and I’m an incredible judge of character. You push stuff away that isn’t safe and obvious, Mom, but love isn’t safe and obvious. Love is risky. Take the risk, woman.”

Flabbergasted, Eva didn’t even know which part of this speech to address. So instead, she dissolved into nervous, breathy laughter. “How on earth would you know that love’s risky?”

Audre rolled her eyes. “Hello? I know Lemonade by heart.”

With that, her very wise little girl was gone. And then Eva took a Lyft directly from LaGuardia Airport to 81 Horatio Street. She rang the doorbell twice. He didn’t answer.

Eva felt it in her bones. He was long gone.

*



Shane was long gone. That morning, around 7:00 a.m., he’d awoken to relentless ringing. He’d sprung up, feeling around in the dark for his phone, instantly thinking something had happened to Eva.

“Eva? You good?”

“Hi, Mr. Hall. This is Officer Reid, from the Providence Police Department.”

“Who?”

“Providence, Rhode Island,” the gruff male voice said by way of explanation.

“Okay.” He ran his hand over his face and sank back into the pillows. “Why are you calling so early?”

Why are you calling me at all? he thought, with a sudden rush of dread.

“Well, I have some unfortunate news.”

In seconds, he was wide awake.

“Ty.”

“Yes.”

“What happened to Ty?”

“I’m calling from RI Hospital. Ty was in an accident earlier yesterday afternoon. A scuffle with another teen out on parole. He was shot several times, and…and it’s not looking good.”

“Jesus. Jesus. What? Where? Is he…”

“All we know is that the shooter stole two hundred dollars from him. And he might be an associate of Ty’s sister, Princess. They were at an abandoned house in Elmwood. Ty mentioned something about a music studio.”

Shane stared at the wall. He could barely breathe.

“Mr. Hall?”

“He’s gonna make it, though. Right? He’ll be okay?”

“The doctors don’t know. Are you nearby? The boy asked for you, and I can’t locate his guardians.”

“I’m coming.”

“Appreciate it. Like I said, he asked for you. And he’s in intensive care alone.”

Shane knew how it felt to be so vulnerable and frightened—and stuck in a hospital with no trustworthy adult who cared whether you lived or died. No parent to swoop in and rescue you. To do what the fuck grown-ups are supposed to do.

He had to do what he’d promised.

“Yeah. Okay, yeah, I’m coming.”

In a fever, he booked the only outgoing flight to Providence that morning, at 9:30 a.m. His return flight was at 4:00 p.m., so he’d be back in time for the Littie Awards that night.

And because he couldn’t help it, because it was naturally where his mind went, Shane decided, with clear-eyed finality, that this was his fault. Ty had called him, and he hadn’t answered. Ty had tried to reach him, and he’d been too busy being happier than he had any right to be.

And it wasn’t until that moment—midflight, leveled to near paralysis by the worry and self-hatred he was feeling over Ty—that he remembered. He froze in his seat, taking in a slow, deep gasp, and was immediately overtaken by a clammy, prickly sweat.

Eva. Eva and Audre.

He’d forgotten. He’d forgotten, because he had no experience with being needed. As a beloved author, he was a lot of people’s favorite person. But no one had ever really loved him. At least not since he was little.