Chapter 30
30
Not even Billy Joel soothes Theo’s flight anxiety as he attempts to settle in his aisle seat while boarding continues. It’s impossible. His knee bounces, so restless. An elder in the window seat reading a Nora Roberts book offers him a cocktail of Xanax and melatonin. He politely declines, then puts headphones on, presses shuffle, and closes his eyes as the opening piano notes of “Vienna” play. The same piano notes that are tattooed across Evelyn’s ribs. Theo skips the song. He couldn’t even say goodbye to her. He chose to slip out of their apartment while she was in the shower like a coward because when he was close to her, everything in his body screamed stay .
But it was time to go.
To let go.
Letting go has been a process that began in the classroom. In his final weeks at Foothill Elementary, Theo thought about begging for his job back on a near-daily basis. He loves teaching. Loves how connected he feels to his mom in the classroom. Theo didn’t consider what it’d feel like to lose that until it was almost gone. Instead of sitting with those feelings, he kept busy. Allowed his students to each choose a book from his library to keep and left the rest to be inherited by the teacher who takes over this space. Asked Juniper to take Maude, the guinea pig who will outlive them all. Consoled Kaia, who cried on the last day of school. Milo, too. And rallied to push his field trip proposal through. It took a few grant applications, a “generous donation” (i.e., a portion of his signing bonus), and some opinionated parents… but in the end, he got a fourth- and fifth-grade field trip to the Griffith Observatory on next year’s calendar.
So eventually, his kids will see the stars.
Theo shifts in his seat, drumming his fingers against his thigh as the final boarding call is announced. It’s a full flight. Allegedly. But the aisle is clear and the middle seat between him and the grandparent with a drugstore in their purse is still empty. A small victory. His phone vibrates with a text from Jacob.
Let me know when you land. Or if you get your
head out of your ass and deplane. I can pick you up.
Don’t fucking waste $80 on an Uber.—Dad
2:02 P.M.
Texting. It’s something that Theo and his father do now. Sporadically. Letting go of his anger toward Jacob is a work in progress, but he’s trying. Both father and son are trying. Instead of sprinting past Jacob on his Sunday runs, Theo rings the doorbell and steps inside his childhood home. Sips on coffee and asks questions. Evelyn is right. Jacob will talk. Theo learns more about a man who internalized so much shame for the things that brought him joy, a man who let grief swallow him whole and would still choose it—his mom, the inevitable grief—over and over again. He’s still unsure that Jacob Cohen will ever fully understand him, but Theo can try to better understand his father who is still here, while he is still here.
He’s typing a response when “1985” starts playing in his ears.
Ooh hoo hoo!
And suddenly, Theo cannot breathe. Because of a Bowling for Soup song . ___ DAYS SINCE “1985.” He left the sign in his classroom that’s no longer his classroom because Evelyn told him to go, and it used to be easier to listen, to let her push, to tell himself it’s better this way. Is it better this way? I love you, too. Obviously. The woman he’s in love with loves him, too, and he’s on a plane that is about to fly three thousand miles away from her because… he’s scared of losing her?
Is this not losing her?
His library is on shuffle.
So when the next song is “Seven Nation Army,” Theo is on his feet. Most days, he isn’t sure what he believes about life, about love, about the point of their temporary time on this fucked-up planet. But every so often, he swears Lori sends him a sign. And right now? His mom is screaming at him.
Go.
Go.
Go.
Theo needs to get off this plane.
Right now.
He reaches for his carry-on in the overhead bin, then speed walks down the aisle, cursing under his breath because why did he choose a seat in the back of the plane? Who chooses the back? He has to get out of this metal tin before they close the door. He can’t leave without saying goodbye. He can’t leave without—
Fuck .
Theo’s so focused on the LED EXIT sign that he doesn’t register the body approaching until he crashes into it.
“Theodore?”
“Ev?”
He blinks.
Presses his two index fingers to his pulse because there’s a fifty percent chance that he’s having a stroke. There’s no way she’s here, dressed in leggings and his NYU sweatshirt that he swore he packed and yet she’s wearing it. Her hair is in a messy bun. Sweat coats her upper lip. She’s so beautiful. Evelyn reaches out to him, covers his heart with her hand until he can breathe again.
He hears the smile in her voice when she asks, “Where are you going?”
“I—” Theo exhales, still at a loss. “To you.”
You.
You.
You.
Evelyn beams at him before standing on her tiptoes and pressing her lips to his and he still isn’t quite sure what is happening. If this is a fever dream or if he’s dead or—
Someone clears their throat. “Sir? Ma’am?” They break apart to make eye contact with a flustered flight attendant. “We’re preparing for takeoff. You, um, really need to take a seat. And keep it PG.”
Evelyn’s cheeks heat. “Sorry.”
Theo laughs. “Where are you?”
She smiles. “42B.”
The empty seat next to his.
Evelyn follows him to the back of the plane, and his heart settles because she is here . Theo stores her bag in the overhead compartment and slides into the middle seat just as the cabin crew begins their safety spiel. Evelyn gets some major side-eye from their window seat companion, who scolds her for, quote, almost giving this sweet boy a heart attack! , then offers them both an edible. The plane smells like sour cream and onion chips. The child sitting behind Theo kicks him relentlessly after their parents tell them the iPad needs to go away until after takeoff.
“This was more cinematic in my head,” Evelyn confesses.
Theo’s still in disbelief. “You’re here.”
“You almost weren’t .” She shoves his shoulder, then twines their fingers together. They’re freezing. Her fingers. Evelyn smirks. “God. That would’ve been… so us .”
His laughter cannot be contained. Neither can his stupid smile. Now in motion, the aircraft heads toward the runway, toward the sky, toward New York. Theo has so many questions. Evelyn Bloom is someone who stays, but she is here, next to him, clutching his hand and there’s so much he wants to say. He doesn’t know whether to begin with his head or his heart.
Then she rests her head on his shoulder and whispers, “Hey.”
And Theo chooses his heart. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Evelyn laughs. “Obviously.”
Obviously .
“You’re here ,” he repeats.
She lifts her head.
Their eyes meet.
Hers sparkle in amusement. “Yeah.”
“What does this mean?”
“Hmm?”
“Sorry.” He winces, unsure if the question came off as guarded, or like pressure, when really he just needs to know if he should pull a parachute on these feelings or if it’s safe to free-fall. “I just… your fellowship…” Theo is great at forming a coherent sentence right now.
“Well.” She squeezes his hand. “There are three months left. I’m going to finish it. I’m not done learning from Sadie and Charlie. I still love the work we do. But after… I was thinking it could be cool to check out the Foley scene in New York? Maybe set up some consultations with new providers? See how it feels to be there? With you? If… that’s still something you’d be into?”
His heart explodes as his brow furrows. “I don’t want you to leave for me—”
“I’m not.”
“Ev.”
“It’d be for me .”
“But—”
“Theodore.” Her voice is firm. Solid. “Stop. I love you. I love waking up next to you. I love your morning voice. I love that you treat blueberry Cheerios like a five-star breakfast. I love choosing photos to display in our home…” Her voice trails off in a giggle, followed by a goddamn adorable nose scrunch. “I love saying our home .”
Theo is free-falling.
“I never wanted to be married to anyone,” Evelyn continues. “Ever. Honestly? I still don’t know if I want to stay married. But I want to be with you. Whatever that means, however that looks? I want to figure it out together. I’ve always stayed because it was safe, because then I could tell myself that it was everyone else who had left me… as if I wasn’t also making a choice. I’m trying out New York for us, but also for myself. And whatever happens? It’s worth the risk. We are worth the risk.”
“Yeah?”
She nods. “No more beats.”
Theo brings her hand to his lips. “I’m very into all of this. Obviously.”
“Obviously.”
Because they’re on an airplane (the best worst thing ever in this moment), Evelyn rests her head back on his shoulder. He offers her an earbud, and they listen to a Survivor podcast as the wheels lift and they ascend into the sky. Someday it will hurt. Theo knows this in his bones. All the time in the world still won’t be enough. But he can choose happiness in the meantime. They deserve happiness. Theo doesn’t want to waste another second not loving Evelyn Bloom. He’s about to say this, to match her declaration with his own, but she’s already snoring, drooling, on his shoulder. I love you .
You.
You.
You.
He chuckles softly. He’ll just have to tell her when she wakes up, as soon as they land, on the subway, before they fall asleep tonight, the moment they wake up tomorrow morning. Again and again and again. Now, as they take flight and careen into the unknown with their hands and hearts intertwined, Theo just presses his lips gently against the top of her head, so happy, so terrified, so content to allow both things to be true.