"It's strange hearing someone call him Jax," I said absently as I flipped through the papers.
"Oh?"
"We always call him Jaxy." Her eyes went soft when I told her the nickname.
"That's sweet. He's a really special boy."
"I agree."
"Well," she said, letting out a sigh, "that's all the info I have for you. I don't want to keep you from your Friday night plans."
I let out a laugh. "My parents took the kids overnight, and my plans included this meeting. Now all that's waiting for me is a quiet, empty house." I said the words with more sadness than I anticipated. I was looking forward to having a night alone, but I hadn't anticipated being lonely.
"We've got that in common," she said with a smile as she scooped up all the papers she'd laid out for me.
Before I could even think about filtering the words, they tumbled out of my mouth. "Can I take you for a cup of coffee?" Her hands stilled, her fingers still grasping the papers, and her eyes met mine. "Not, like, a date," I hurriedly stuttered, "just like a thank you coffee for crying all over you last time we met."
"I don't know," she said slowly, a worried look in her eyes.
"No, you're right. It's a bad idea." I stood up and, taking my packet of papers with me, moved toward the door. "It was nice meeting you … um … again." I threw up a hasty wave, but just before I made it to the door, she stopped me.
"Wait," she called, her voice still sounding unsure. "There's a great little bistro on Fifth Street downtown called Marco's. They're open late on Fridays. I was going to go there after work and grade some papers, maybe grab a sandwich. I'll be there for the next few hours."
"You won't mind a little distraction?" I asked, hoping she wouldn't.
"Are you kidding? I talk to seven-year-olds all day. I would love to talk to an adult about something normal for a little while." She smiled again and all my nerves dissipated. I didn't know why I was nervous. It wasn't like I'd asked her on a date. We were just two adults who didn't have any plans and decided to grab something to eat.
"Okay, I'll see you there in a little while." I waved again, this time a little less rabidly, and left. I made it into the hall and around the corner before I let out the breath I'd been holding. I ran a hand through my hair and kept walking. It had been a very long time since I'd been alone with a woman. I hadn't even thought about whether or not I was ready to take this step before I'd blurted out the words.
My thoughts immediately went to Olivia, and even though it was ridiculous, I felt guilty for planning to meet with a woman. And as if my guiltometer needed to be calibrated, my phone rang in my pocket. It turned out to be Evelyn calling. I'd dodged her phone call earlier in the week and couldn't bring myself to ignore her again. She didn't deserve that.
"Hey, Evie," I answered, trying to sound upbeat.
"Devon, hi. How are you?"
"Good. Just leaving a conference with Jaxy's teacher."
"Oh, yeah? Are the kids there?"
"No, they're with my mom."
"Oh." She sounded disappointed. "But that's probably good. Do you have a second?"
"Yeah, sure," I replied, pushing the doors of the school open and walking out into the warm air of the night. The tone of Evie's voice worried me though; she sounded like she had bad news. Or news she thought I wouldn't take well.
Evie and I had been on better terms since she'd come to visit us a few months before. There'd been a period when we didn't really communicate. I let her talk to the kids whenever she wanted, encouraged it even. Evie was one of the last connections Ruby and Jaxy had to their mother and I would never keep her away, but it was too difficult to talk to her myself. But a lot of good had come of her visit. Seeing her happy and healthy went a long way to making me feel like we'd all made the right decisions, like we'd actually done what was best for everyone.
"Nate and I want to fly to Florida during the kids' spring break and take them to Disney World." Evie pushed the words out rapidly and I knew she was nervous. I could tell by the tone of her voice she had her eyes squeezed shut and her cheeks bunched up, bracing for the worst. I could picture her in my head. "We don't want to intrude, so if you already have plans, I completely understand. I just miss them and thought it would be something fun-ˮ
"Evie, slow down. Breathe." I heard her give a sad and nervous laugh, but then she inhaled and exhaled, loud enough for me to hear her. "Okay, so you're coming to Florida and you want to go to Disney World?"
"We thought it would be fun. Have they been yet?"
"Yeah, but it was almost two years ago and I mean, come on, it's Disney." The air in my SUV was stifling. Even after almost three years I hadn't learned to crack my windows. I started the car and cranked the air-conditioning.
"So you wouldn't mind if we came for a visit?"
"Of course not." I heard a girly squeal and could picture Evie bouncing up and down, her blonde ponytail swinging behind her. It had taken a while for the ache to go away every time I thought about her, so I was glad when picturing her didn't make me uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, in fact. Hearing Evie happy made me happy. We could add that to the list of things we never thought would happen: perhaps I'd managed to release the weird hold I'd had on Evie since we were in college. But then again, I never actually had her to begin with.
Chapter Three
Grace
"You've made a terrible mistake," I said to myself, turning my car into a spot at Marco's. I'd been telling myself variations of that same sentiment the entire drive there. "Nothing good can come of this," I mumbled, putting the car in park and pulling the keys from the ignition.
He'd looked almost exactly as I remembered him, which was surprising seeing as how the last time I saw him he was standing in the dark, crying. His hair was blond. He was tall and broad. Well-built. Big, but not overly bulky. Back in Fairbanks he'd been wearing a light jacket when I found him crying against the wall of the school, but tonight he'd just been wearing a polo shirt. My eyes had immediately been drawn to the way his sleeves stretched across his biceps, which were large and defined.
"Oh, my goodness. This is a terrible idea." I let my forehead rest against the steering wheel, trying to give my thoughts an opportunity to settle. I couldn't not go in. He was a parent. He'd think I was rude. But he was a parent. Certainly I couldn't meet a parent at a bistro on a Friday night, for no academic purpose. This had to be against all kinds of rules.
But even though there were a million reasons not to go in, I still felt compelled. There was something about him that pulled at me. There was this strange need to make sure he was all right. After three years of thinking about him, I couldn't pass up an opportunity to talk to him.
It was with that small goal I opened my car door and climbed out, making my way to the bistro.
Mr. Roberts was standing just inside the doors, hands in his pockets. He turned to me as I walked in, and smiled. For just one moment I was breathless. He was truly beautiful. Without my permission, my lips tipped up and smiled in response.
"I was afraid you wouldn't show," he said quietly as I approached.
"That would be rude."
"But understandable. This probably isn't technically allowed." His smile turned sheepish as he shrugged.
I didn't respond because I didn't really know what to say. He was right. This wasn't allowed. But, as far as I was concerned, it was completely innocent.
Mostly innocent.
"There's a great spot in the back. They'll bring us a menu." I waved a hand and indicated I wanted him to follow me. Luckily, my favorite table was available. This was a great spot, but it wasn't exactly a happening place. On a Friday evening there were a lot more exciting places for people to be.
Just as I'd said, as soon as we were seated a waiter brought us both water and a menu.
"This is a nice place," Mr. Roberts said, looking around.
"I come here most Fridays. They're really friendly and let me sit here for hours. In fact, they're probably wondering what I'm doing here with another person. I've always been alone." I said the words and then felt the stinging in my gut. I hadn't always been alone, but the sentence made me feel empty anyhow. "I mean, I've never come here with another person."
"The idea of going to a restaurant alone seems both terrifying and wonderful." He smiled again.
"It's peaceful, that's for sure. But it's lonely sometimes," I said honestly. Being lonely wasn't the worst thing a person could be.
He was quiet for a moment as he looked over his menu, but then said softly, "It's funny, because my idea of lonely is probably very different than yours. Or most people's, for that matter."
I took his words as a sort of invitation to talk about what was on my mind. "How've you been? You know, since I saw you last?" He exhaled loudly and I realized he might not want to talk about it. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry, but I wasn't lying when I said I think about you all the time. I wonder about you." I lift one shoulder in a shrug. "You were really upset."
"I should have never tried to go that night. It was a bad decision." He ran a hand through his blond hair and I watched it fall right back into place. "Olivia had only been gone a short while. I hadn't anticipated how it would feel to see married couples, parents, at an event like that. It just kind of struck a nerve, you could say."