35 EVIE
E VIE
On my first night back in Pennsylvania, I went straight to Kate’s.
We had plans to meet some other old friends, including your dad.
We’d tried to stay in touch every few weeks, but it was a weird time for communication.
Emails were still mostly for work. Not everyone had mobile phones.
It was an easy time to get disconnected.
Nonetheless, despite the time and distance, Kate and I were always able to pick up easily without skipping a beat.
Our senior year, she’d been voted both Best Smile and the less traditional Most Likely to Get Caught .
.., which made her fairly perfect in my eyes.
“AHH! You’re home! I missed you!” She nearly knocked me backward outside her front door, and I returned her hug with equal celebration as we dragged my luggage inside.
Her apartment was part of a larger brownstone in a trendy neighborhood just outside of Philly.
Always dressed well, she wore her long blonde hair pinned in a delicate clip to one side, and it hung poker straight down a stylish gray A-line coat.
“Hey, pretty girl! I missed you too!” I exclaimed, shivering.
“But, man, I’ve been out west for a while and have not missed this weather. ”
“I feel like we haven’t talked in ages,” she said, half pouting.
“I know; I’m sorry. Me too!”
“All right, lots to catch up on. But let’s get you settled in later. First we go out!”
“Yes! Where are we headed? And where’s Jim?” Our breath was gray in the frigid winter air as we quickly retreated to the warmth of her car.
“He’s coming with Steve. A little reunion! Everyone is in town, Ev!”
“You’re kidding. Steve’s in town this year?”
“Yep, he just moved back, actually. Got a job at a fancy firm downtown. I thought you guys were still in touch sometimes?”
“Not as much, lately. We haven’t seen each other since that party a couple of New Years ago.” I looked over and saw her grinning at me with a know-it-all expression on her face. “What?” I asked.
“Oh, please, don’t pretend you’re not excited to see him.”
“Of course I’m excited to see him; he’s Steve.”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”
“We haven’t dated since high school. There is absolutely nothing between us.”
“You’re still the love of his life, you know,” she said.
“Me and about twenty other girls. And whatever, that is so not true. We outgrew each other years ago.”
“Whatever you say. But anyway, he’ll be there tonight, so we’ll see-ee,” she said in a singsong voice.
“You do remember I have a boyfriend, right?” My heart warmed at the thought of Carter. Everyone I’d ever dated before him, and every other man on the planet, paled in comparison, instantly forgotten.
“Oh, right. Your imaginary boyfriend and all that. What’s his name again? Connor?” She looked around. “And where is Mr. Mysterious exactly?”
“I did not make him up. He just travels a lot.” I’d mentioned Carter only briefly to Kate during our few conversations.
I’d refrained from telling her more about him because as much as I loved her, she was like a pipeline to the hometown gossip pool, and given the circumstances, I’d grown protective of my privacy in the matter.
But I was looking forward to finally telling her the whole story.
Maybe when we had some quality alone time at the end of the night, I thought.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Kate rolling her eyes. “He’s a musician, and he travels a lot? Oh, that sounds just fabulous. Such a catch, Ev.” Her voice dripped sarcasm.
Though Kate and I were similar in many ways, she was as grounded in her thoughts and dreams as most everyone in our hometown—good job, good family, good house, solid 401(k)—that was the dream. I couldn’t always relate.
We arrived at our destination in Old City.
At night, the neighborhood sprang to life with an eclectic crowd carousing the cobblestone streets as they hopped from bar to bar.
That night, our friends had taken over a tufted velvet sofa and a mix of upholstered chairs and tables at a favorite bar, strewn with pitchers of pale beer and plastic cups beneath strands of colored lights.
We greeted one another, a group of nine or so, exchanging hugs and kisses that could only be achieved so warmly by having been practiced since grade school.
I was immediately handed a beer and was about to take a sip when a pair of arms wrapped around my waist from behind.
“Hey, stranger.” I spun around and smiled widely at the sight of your dad.
His blond hair, which he’d worn long and tucked behind his ears most of our teen years, was now stylishly cut short.
And the blue of his eyes was brought out by a black wool sweater over a chambray collared shirt that had replaced the ubiquitous flannels of our earlier youth.
He smiled his toothpaste-commercial smile at me and opened his arms.
“Steve!” I returned his hug eagerly, buoyed by the sight of one of my favorite people in the world.
From the time we were kids, your dad had a politician’s ability to make and collect friends, and I’d never met a single person who didn’t like him.
Since the age of eleven, girls had been smitten by him, and boys wanted to be his friend.
All the while, he was one of the most humble and kind people I knew and had an openness that drew people in naturally.
Few people could elicit as instantaneous of a smile from me as he could.
He held me at arm’s length and looked me up and down.
“Damn, girl. Whatever you’re doing agrees with you.”
“Thanks, you’re looking pretty good yourself, sir.”
He mock bowed in appreciation.
“So I hear you’re back in town for good this time?” I had to yell into his ear to compete with the music.
“Yeah. I just got hired at a firm here in town. My parents are thrilled. And it’s good to be back.”
“Congrats! Glad to hear things are going well.”
“What about you? You’ve fallen off the planet! No one ever hears from you. Off in the world doing whatever it is you do, hanging out at rock concerts or whatever. Our little free spirit.”
“Ugh! What is it about my job that’s so hard to understand?”
“It’s not. I’m just giving you a hard time.” He winked at me.
“Uh-huh. But yeah. It’s been kind of a crazy year.”
Just then, Kate pushed him out of the way, teasing, “Oh no, not you already! Don’t you go monopolizing her time; I just got her back!”
“Uh-oh, here’s trouble.” He laughed, embracing her.
Steve and Kate had the habit of behaving a lot like brother and sister, with a combination of affection and annoyance.
“Okay. In honor of our little reunion here, shots all around,” Steve announced, earning a loud cheer from our group, which now took up nearly the entire back of the bar.
We have these two pictures in an album somewhere side by side: one photo is from seventh grade, at our first boy-girl party, Kate on one side, me on the other, and Steve in the middle; the second one is an identical pose in our twenties, taken on that night in Old City in front of chalk-graffiti brick walls beside a pinball machine. The three musketeers.
Steve was staying with Jim at an apartment nearby, and it was decided that we’d all crash there for the night, thus eliminating the need to drive home later. So the drinks flowed. As we all talked and laughed, Steve, Kate, and I stayed in close proximity to each other. Some things never change.
“What?” Steve asked at one point, noticing my expression as I looked at him.
I laughed. “Nothing. Just reminiscing.”
He slid his chair closer to mine so that we could talk more easily. Steve’s whole personality could be seen in the warmth of his eyes, and I saw a familiar glint there. “I’ve missed you. We should keep in touch more,” he said.
“Yeah. I know. It’s hard, though, isn’t it? Careers and all. Life takes over.”
“And you’re never back in town, I hear?” he said.
“Less and less these days. My work keeps me busy. And it’s just better this way. I won’t be back again for a while,” I said. “I try to avoid it.”
“I understand. Have you seen him yet? Your dad?”
I shook my head. “I just got here a few hours ago.”
“When’s the last time you saw him?”
“It’s been a few years. But he showed up at my apartment unexpectedly a while back.”
“How did he find you?”
I shrugged. “It’s just a pen name. Not the witness protection program. I’m sure it wasn’t that hard.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.”
“It was okay. Just the same old thing. He needed some money.”
“Shocking.”
“But otherwise he was fine. He just took me by surprise. I think he may be getting sober.”
Steve knew the history better than anyone.
I’d spent more nights than I could count over the years sleeping at his parents’ house.
Between his family and Kate’s, I’d always had a place to go when I was growing up.
And despite the differences in our background—him living in one of the biggest houses in town, while I struggled in a trailer on the edges of town—Steve’s parents never once judged my humble and difficult life. They welcomed me with open arms.
He attempted an encouraging smile. “That’s great. I hope it sticks this time.”
“Me too.” I hadn’t decided if I’d go see my father yet. Part of me wanted to, but the other didn’t. I changed the subject. “But otherwise, work is really taking off! I’ve been working on a film with a band, and everything feels like it’s fitting into place in life, finally.”
“What? You and this rock-’n’-roll stuff. Aren’t you the cool one.” He said it with a good-natured nudge.
“Yeah, yeah. I know. But you sound like a grandpa.”
“You’re an easy target. But honestly, good for you.” His eyes softened. “I mean it. I’m glad you’re happy and enjoying your work. I always knew you’d go places and leave us all in the dust,” he added with a touch of uncharacteristic melancholy.