Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Eva
My party rapidly approaches and time flies by faster than I had anticipated.
Noah has been busy the last two weeks, hard at work figuring out all the specifics that Michael and Rex want to add onto their club.
He spends his days working, measuring and drawing up plans, making whatever progress he can while the two co-owners fight endlessly over what they actually need versus what they thought they wanted.
I fill my time working as well. I even pick up two new freelance positions in Orange County.
I haven’t told Noah exactly where the new magazines are located yet.
Normally, the magazines might have hired someone else, but when I had a video conference with the editors, elaborating on how much I know the town, how often I still visit, and how much family I still have living in the area, they agreed to take a chance on me.
Even though things are going great between me and Noah, I still secretly think of that job at the L.A.
Times. I’ve even followed up and stayed in contact with a few people in the office, knowing that persistence usually always pays off.
The night before my big birthday celebration, I agree to meet Gwen for drinks after work.
Noah happily pushed the idea, since he’s still swamped with work trying to figure out how to cut unnecessary costs for Rex and Michael’s addition.
Excited and ready for some fun you can only have with your best friend, Gwen and I decide to hit some local pubs downtown and walk home if need be.
Our first stop is a small bar on Main Street, which is probably only about five hundred square feet.
The place makes up for the lack of room inside with a small patio out back, though.
White string lights line the fences, and space heaters stand in the walkways as we make our way towards the patio and Gwen complains over my choice of seating.
“Really,” Gwen says as we reach a table by a fireplace and set down our purses. “This isn’t Orange County. Hell, I wouldn’t sit outside in SoCal this time of year.”
It’s fifty-eight degrees outside and it’s supposed to get much colder before the night is over. The good thing about being acclimated to both Northern and Southern California is that you can take almost any temperature the climate throws at you.
“Where is your sense of adventure,” I challenge. “A few stiff drinks and you’ll forget all about the cold.”
Gwen can’t argue with that. It’s basic knowledge. When a waitress arrives, we place our drink orders and wait in silence. Our relationship is never at a loss for words for long, though the absence between the two of us the last few weeks makes it hard to figure out what to say next.
“Are you excited about your party,” Gwen asks abruptly.
“I guess so. If I can handle two nights of back-to-back drinking, that is,” I say. Hangovers were one thing in my early twenties, although now nearing my thirties, they leave me hating life for several days after.
“You’re just not seasoned anymore. A night like tonight is exactly what you need to get you back in the saddle again.”
The waitress returns and sets our drinks on the table.
She tells us to yell if we need anything else, or better yet, go inside for refills.
Acknowledging the fact that we are the only ones crazy enough to sit on the patio, we nod and wait for the waitress to leave before continuing our conversation.
Gwen glances at her phone briefly, and I do the same, pretending to have some important information to look at when in actuality I’m just buying time.
Why is this awkward?
“So,” Gwen sighs.
“So,” I repeat.
Gwen takes a long drink of beer and looks off into the distance. I have never seen her like this before. This woman normally doesn’t care what she says or how she says it.
“How are things with you and Noah?” she asks with a touch of hurt in her tone.
“We’re good. Real good. He gave me a key,” I tell her. “First time in my life that has ever happened.”
Gwen doesn’t say anything. She raises her eyebrows and takes another sip of her drink. I thought Gwen liked Noah, but I’m starting to think otherwise.
“What, is that weird? Too fast?” I ask her.
“No, not at all. I mean, not if you're happy?”
Her question startles me. Never before has she bothered to find out if I’m happy in any of my relationships.
“He makes me happy,” I say. “I love him.”
“Do you?” Gwen asks. A sense of urgency laces her tone.
I sit there for a moment, let her question invade my thoughts, and search my best friend's face. Gwen looks scared, worried, mad, hurt. I can tell she wants what’s best for me, and she thinks Noah is not it.
Gwen simply just doesn’t know Noah like I do.
She doesn’t know the man that changed his whole world just to be with me. That took guts.
“I do, Gwen. He’s an amazing man. He gave up everything for me. He stayed and changed his whole life just to be with me,” I try explaining. “How could I not love a man that would give up everything just to be with me?”
Gwen’s response is slow to come, but powerful when spoken. With one simple question, she stops time and changes everything that I’ve been trying to fight since Noah walked into my life.
“But are you willing to do the same, Eva?” she asks.
Even though I’ve been dancing around the same thought, the question hits me like a ton of bricks as it leaves her lips.
I’m hurt Gwen would even suggest such a thing.
I’m mad that anyone would think I’m the type of girl who wouldn’t give back what was so freely given to her.
It’s as if she’s accusing me of using Noah or something.
And then, I’m sad. Sad that for the first time I’m forced to face the little voice inside me I was trying so hard to ignore.
The burning reality that, maybe I’m not willing to give him what he’s so freely given me.
I sit there, on the back patio of a local bar with my best friend, and suddenly feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. The thought never stuck in my mind before simply because I always forced it away. Now, it claws at me like a bad disease.
“Your silence, my sweet dear friend, is unfortunately your answer,” Gwen says, breaking my train of thought. The look of pity on her face is one I will never forget.
I don’t want that to be the answer. I love Noah, I know I do, but giving up a life I had planned and hoped for long before I ever met him is not something I can easily part with.
“I wouldn’t say I wouldn’t give up everything for him,” I snap, unable to accept my inner torment. “You don’t know that Gwen, you don’t know what we have….”
“Ah, but I know you,” Gwen cuts me off.
I can’t argue with that. She does know me. She knows all I stood for, all I dreamed for, all I’ve set my hopes on ever since I was a little girl.
“That’s not fair,” I whisper.
“Listen, Ev,” Gwen says, leaning forward.
“I love you. You know that.” I nod, waiting for my friend to continue.
“But you have dreams, girl. Ambitions! You live life fuller than I have ever seen anyone live it, possibly ever. The whole reason I never gave up on life is because I had you by my side, pushing me every damn day.” Gwen’s voice breaks as she talks about losing her sister.
I find it hard to contain my own emotions as a tear slides down my face.
“You set the bar high, girl, and the rest of us can only aspire to follow and obtain even half the goals you have set for yourself.”
Gwen pauses for a moment thinking. She takes a drink before continuing.
“I tried to let myself die when my sister did. And God knows I’m no sort of example to look up to, but you saw through all that.
You kept me going. You never gave up on me, and because of that, I never gave up on myself.
I won’t let you give up on your dreams. If you tell me your dreams are to marry the sexy, southern, tall, construction-working, hot volunteer firefighter from Kentucky and have a million babies, possibly being barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen the rest of your life, I’ll respect that.
But I won’t accept it. Just, please, think about what I’m saying.
Sometimes you only get one chance in life.
I just want to make sure you’re making the right one. ”
Gwen trails off, and I’m stunned in silence.
I can barely even think straight, let alone form any sort of comeback.
Looking down at the bottle in my hand, I try to process all my past, all the present, and all the future I’ve hoped for.
My breathing quickens, and I find it hard to be in any form of reality right now.
Taking a long sip of beer, I subconsciously and involuntarily decide the best option is to get rip-roaring drunk. And the sooner the better.
I slam back three-quarters of the beer I have left, stand, and make my way to the bar to order two more. Tipping the bartender more than anyone ever should, I wink at him and tell him to keep them coming.