“Well, start with the basics. Where did you live?”
“Apartment not too far from M Street Beach.”
Heath leaned closer. “An apartment building or…?”
Evan bit his lip, fighting a smile. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Just say it.”
He sighed and laughed, and Heath knew without looking that Olivia and Isabella were watching the show, because all he’d heard from their table in the last ten minutes were sighs and a fondawww.
“It was a triple deckah. Happy?”
Dangerously so. Thanks for asking.“I’m not sorry. It’s too good.”
It was all too good. It felt entirely too correct and comfortable to be holding hands at dinner with this man.
“I have this photo album. It’s a little worse for wear, faded and torn up and all that. Years ago, I tracked down a few old neighbors who had home movies from the yard parties we all went to in the summer, and they let me make copies.”
Heath ascended. He’d said it assummah yahd pahties.
“What’s something you directly remember?”
Evan popped a loaded tuna roll into his mouth, and a blissful expression relaxed his features. Heath tried to think of anything in the world that made him feel that content. Rainy autumn days curled up on the couch with a book, certainly. A fantastic tiramisu. Italian nona fantastic, not something out of a supermarket freezer section.
His mind unhelpfully offered waking up with Evan next to him, and he swallowed hard. He would not be following that rabbit. No, sir.
“I remember my grandmother taking me to the beach, or playground, or whatever while Mom worked. My grandfather did appliance repair and refused to retire until he died, so it was me and Gram most days.”
“What was she like?”
“A fucking drill sergeant. Kids in the neighborhood gave her a wide berth, because she called them on their bullshit if they were up to something—and everyone was up to something. There was nothing else to do.”
“What about your mom?”
Everything about Evan softened at that question, and Heath pictured him again as a little boy with shocking red hair and big hazel eyes, looking up at a woman he clearly adored. It was heartbreaking to think of all the years he’d had to spend without her.
He wasn’t close to his mother in the same way he’d been with Dad, but they spoke often, and he was always visiting for one thing or another. Still, he understood the hole left behind when special people disappeared from your life, and he’d started to recognize the ways Evan had tried to fill those pockets of emptiness.
“She was funny. And kind. Worked her ass off. She’s also mostly responsible for this.” He tugged a lock of his hair, and Heath fell in love with a woman for the first time in his life. Bless her for giving the world another redheaded man.
“She’d take me to Castle Island, and we’d watch the planes at Logan. We’d get ice cream, and she’d make up stories about the flights. Where they were going or coming back from. Places she’d read about and wanted to see one day. She always had her nose in a book. Kind of like you.”
A lump formed in Heath’s throat. Evan’s melancholy fondness was painfully sweet, but it was thekind of like youthat sent flutters through his chest. Terrible, awful, evil flutters.
“It was simple, y’know? I look at my life now and…”
“I’m sure she’d be proud of you.”
He chuckled, and the edge was brittle. “She’d have kicked my ass long before I got to where I am now.”
“What? Why?”
“She wanted me to follow my dreams. Find my passions and all that shit. Be happy.”
“You’re not happy?”
Evan’s eyes answered for him. In them, Heath saw a tired man drawn too thin. Someone who maintained appearances and shoved aside what didn’t serve the image he wanted to portray. He was handsome and successful, but happy? Not nearly enough.
