I could see it.
Life with Everly.
Despite everything, I could imagine it. Her in my life, in my bed.
It would be as easy as taking my next breath.
Swerving to the right, I took the first empty spot on the side of the road I could find and put the car in park, killing the engine. Lowering my head to the steering wheel, I took a long deep gulp of air.
If my mind could forget everything-every memory I'd ever had, then surely I could train my heart to do the same.
Starting right now.
Feeling determined, I glanced up and spotted the first restaurant I could find-a small bar and grill that was advertising a festive happy hour that had just begun.
Perfect.
I knew just about two people in this city. Three if you counted the redheaded waitress I was currently trying to avoid. It was time I ventured out and met new people.
Tried new things.
And moved on. For good.
Having declined a table, I took a seat at the bar instead and restlessly tapped my thumbs against the grained wood, waiting for the overworked bartender to appear.
The restaurant, one of those fusion places that mixed a million different cuisines in an attempt to create something new, was decently busy for a weekday. The place was steadily filling with locals arriving after work. Mostly coming in in twos or threes, they filled up the tables around the bar and kept to themselves, but every so often a group or a single like myself would take up a couple spaces at the bar.
It didn't take long to order a drink, and once my order for a nice microbrew Brick had got me hooked on had been placed, I continued my people watching until I was bored stiff.
It took less than five minutes.
This was why men ate peanuts and watched TV at bars. We didn't people watch-that was a chick thing.
"You look familiar." I turned to my right and saw a beautiful blonde a few seats down, leaning toward me, trying not to shout over the noise.
"Do I?"
"Yes," she continued, grabbing her drink and moving closer. "Have you been here before?"
"Maybe," I answered with a grin. She seemed to take my answer for flirting and she responded with a giggle. I was just being honest, but I liked her smile.
And her laugh. At least I could make someone laugh.
The bartender arrived at that moment with my drink and I offered to buy her another. "Another gin and tonic," she said to the man behind the counter. He nodded and stepped away.
"Hmm." She took the remaining sip of her drink. "Oh, I know where I've seen you!" she said. "Did you used to work at Joey's bar down the street?" she asked, her eyes wide with excitement, like she'd just put the final piece to a very complicated puzzle together.
Honestly, I didn't know what to say.
Everly hadn't ever mentioned me working in a bar, but that didn't mean I hadn't.
Would it be likely for this woman to recognize me from a job I might have had ten years ago?
Not really.
"Uh-" I started, but she cut me off.
"It's Mike, right?" Her hand fell to my arm, and I looked down at it briefly.
"August, actually. But I bet I'm better looking than Mike," I grinned.
She laughed, covering her mouth and turning away. "I could have sworn that was you. But no, you're right. Mike had a giant skull tattoo on his forearm. And you?"
I lifted my sleeve to reveal nothing but the lean muscle I'd been slowly gaining back. My morning runs were paying off.
"Definitely not Mike," she said slowly. Her eyes raked over me in an appreciative manner. "So August, then? That's a nice name."
"Thank you, and yours would be?"
"Magnolia," she answered with a shrug, before adding, "My mother was a florist."
I liked the way she covered her mouth when she laughed, as if she was embarrassed or befuddled. It was sort of cute. "Beautiful name for a beautiful woman."
Her drink arrived and we spent the next few minutes getting to know each other. She worked in the area and liked to stop by occasionally for happy hour. Her coworkers had bailed on her, which explained her current single status. My part of the conversation was slightly awkward.
"I am retired," I explained.
"Retired? How old are you?" Her eyes widened.
"Thirty-one," I answered, with a grin.
"How does one retire at thirty-one? Because I'd really like to do that."
I chuckled, trying to figure out how I was going to explain that. I wasn't ashamed of my situation, but it wasn't one I wanted to tell just anyone.
"I was really good at my job. So good that I made enough to retire-much earlier than expected. So I did, and now I'm just deciding what to do next."
She placed her hand under her chin and just looked at me with wonder. "Wow, that's amazing."
"It's actually sort of boring," I confessed. "But I think I've found something I'm really into."
"Really? What?" Her enthusiasm was genuine and it felt good to be interesting for a normal reason.
"Photography. I used to do a bunch when I was younger and kind of fell out of it, but now I have the time to pick it back up. I'm loving it."
"That's great. Really great." She smiled, and tiny creases formed at the corners of her eyes. "It's rare to find something you're truly passionate about."
"I agree." My eyes locked with hers. "Hey, do you want to grab some dinner while we here?" I asked, realizing I didn't want our conversation to end.
Her expression lit up once again, and I felt her hand touch mine.
"Yeah, I'd like that."
"So would I."
And even though it wasn't as easy as breathing, I took that first step and got a table for two, because I needed to move on. I needed a new path that didn't include coppery redheads and little cramped houses.
I needed a new life.
The Haight, or the Haight-Ashbury district of San Francisco, was like stepping into a kaleidoscope. Every walk of life seemed encapsulated in the two hundred-some acres of space, from wide-eyed tourists wanting to take home a one of a kind treasure to the aged beatnik who'd spent every day of his life here, playing the same song, never regretting a thing.
Things had changed since the crazy days of the sixties-the arrival of new generations and styles, but the vibe was still mostly the same-different was beautiful and creativity was celebrated.
It was no surprise that this was the place Brick had chosen for our next meeting. As soon as I spotted him sitting at the little café, cradling his cup of coffee to his lips, wearing a crazy flowered shirt and khaki shorts, I could see how at home he was here.
"Are we ever going to meet at your office again?" I asked, taking the open seat across from him.
"You didn't talk much in there," he shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee, "And besides, the coffee is better here."
The mention of coffee had me thinking of Everly. Had she worked this morning? Was she behind that counter greeting customers and making cups of coffee just like the one Brick held?
Would she greet me the same way, or give me the same cold shoulder?
I let that thought go and ordered an espresso and a blueberry muffin since I hadn't had breakfast. Sitting back in the cozy chair, I allowed myself a minute to enjoy the warm sunshine and cool California breeze before diving into conversation.
People milled about down the street in front of us, many on their way to brunch or in hopes of some early morning shopping. It was early Saturday afternoon and soon this place would be bustling with tourists.
Turning back toward Brick, I asked, "So, are you ever going to send me another bill?"
I'd begun to notice, now that I had a firmer grasp on my finances, that he hadn't sent me a bill in over a month.
"I haven't really decided yet," he answered with a slight grin.
I shook my head in disbelief. "Anything to do with the new choice of meeting location, or perhaps the fact that you went out of your way to contact Everly on my behalf?"
His eyes crinkled at the corners. "No to the first part-I really do like the coffee here, and I do find you open up more outside an office setting. I would be doing this regardless of … other things. In regards to the second half, well … that was out of the norm, even for one so out of the box such as me. I acted more as a friend than a counselor or therapist, which is why I stopped charging you as one."
"So, I guess if this all goes south, I won't be able to sue you?"
He chuckled, shaking his head at my comment. "No, but you will have me around-as a friend-to put everything back together again."
"And if it just happens to go well?"
"My bill will be in the mail," he joked with a chuckle.
"So much for friendship." I rolled my eyes. My coffee and muffin were delivered at that moment and I dug in, feeling famished. Brick was right; the coffee here was right on and their muffins weren't all that bad either.
"Your Everly makes a good cup of coffee," Brick said as I polished off the last of my muffin.