Chapter 4: Honest Conversations
Evan shifted the car into park and switched off the ignition. It was early evening and only a few cars were in the parking lot. He recognized Anne’s car parked next to his, the driver seat empty. She must have been inside waiting for him, having mastered the freeway system he was not used to. The restaurant was a whole four miles away from the harbor and yet he still managed to get lost. A deep breath escaped from his mouth, though he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding it. He was nervous, even a bit scared. She’d made her need for answers evident and he wasn’t quite sure how much of the truth he could tell her. He suspected she would believe none of it. If he even wanted to tell her the truth, which he did to some extent,, he was bound by an obligation greater than he could explain. There would be enough of an answer for her to decide if it was the truth and nothing more. It wasn’t his place to divulge any more than that.
He climbed out of the vehicle and locked it as he made his way towards the restaurant. Anne was sitting outside, lounging on a blue couch tucked up against a floor-to-ceiling glass window that made up the entrance to the building. She held a large glass of wine with one hand with her free arm crossed over her chest, and was staring off into the distance, completely unaware of his presence.
She looked guarded and controlled, lost in thoughts he couldn’t see or hear. He noticed she had put her hair up since leaving the harbor. It was a thick mound wrapped around itself at the crown of her head, moving lazily as she dipped her head back to take a sip from her wineglass. Her too-big brown eyes were stuck on something in the middle distance, her brows furrowed above them. His thoughts wandered absentmindedly from his identity concerns to how she looked, wondering what thoughts had created the distant look in her eyes. There was something familiar about her, a similarity in her face that he had seen elsewhere but could not place.
The voice of a restaurant patron excusing herself behind him snapped him from his thoughts. Anne looked up and feigned a polite smile. Evan took a seat in a plush upholstered chair opposite her and tried to push the thought aside.
“Sorry, I got lost,” he mumbled.
“I didn’t know what you’d like so I just ordered the first thing on the menu.” Her hand waived carelessly over a plate of cheese and fruit and a pitcher of chilled water. “The Riesling is pretty decent if you like white.”
“Thank you, but, I don’t drink,” he politely declined.
“Usually I don’t either,” she revealed, observing what little liquid remained in her wineglass. “Somehow it seemed appropriate.” Her eyes met his and he could tell she was not interested in small talk or pleasantries. She had questions and seemed to be holding back the urge to let them spill out all at once. He recalled the horror on her face when she awoke from unconsciousness, and how she turned red while screaming at him. He could only imagine how she was feeling.
A waiter appeared, welcomed Evan, and took an order for two meatloaf sandwiches - Anne’s recommendation - before disappearing as quickly as he’d appeared. She was staring at him, expecting him to start explaining himself. The time for silence had long since passed and he knew he could no longer keep her from the answers she desired.
He didn’t have to be there at all. He could have easily declined her invitation to dinner and kept driving along the coast towards Santa Barbara, but that wasn’t who he was. He always believed in honoring his commitments, even the ones he didn’t like, and Anne was no different.
“So tell me. How does an ordinary man like you jump off a cliff after someone he doesn’t know, only to catch her and land miles away on a beach perfectly intact?”
He swallowed hard at the question. During the drive from the harbor he had tried to come up with any explanation that might satisfy her while protecting him. He hadn’t come up with anything.
“I suppose I’m not an ordinary man,” he answered. She looked at him pointedly, clearly not in the mood for games or pointless distractions. Being evasive would do neither of them any favors. “I told you. It’s difficult to explain.”
“Try me.” Her eyes bore into his with an intensity that caught him by surprise. The truth was the only direction to go. Even if he could come up with an adequate lie he doubted she would believe him. Though he also doubted she would believe the absolute truth.
“You’re going to think I’m lying,” he warned.
“Well, my disbelief is already pretty suspended after what happened. Why don’t you just explain yourself and allow me the benefit of coming to my own conclusion?”