Our fingers brushas he hands me the glass of wine. His smile wavers slightly when hesees the CD case in my other hand.
“Thisis such a great mix,” I say quickly in case he thought I hadn’tplayed it yet. “As you can see, I even busted out the old Discmanto listen to it.”
He huffs out alaugh and shifts from one foot to the other, his gaze still trainedon the shiny red case. “Impressive. I’m glad you’re enjoying it.Have you…umm…did you have a chance to read the insert?”
“I did,and it was very sweet. I didn’t look at it the other night becauseI didn’t want to know the songs ahead of time. Sometimes it feelslike there are so few surprises in life, you know? Good ones,anyway. You can look up spoilers online for TV shows and movies,know a band’s set list before you attend a concert…”
Wesley lifts hishead to look at me, his lips curving in a soft smile. “That soundslike you.” With his eyes locked on mine, he takes the case from myfingers and leans past me to set it on the bedside table. The wayhe brushes against me as he pulls away feels purposeful.
“I’mthrilled to see you, so don’t take this the wrong way, but Ithought you were busy? You said you had some stuff to deal withwhile you’re in town.”
“Thrilled to see me, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows as he backsaway, breaking eye contact so he can look around the room. As hemoves through the space, picking up framed pictures and checkingout the books in my bookcase, it dawns on me that he hasn’t beenhere before.
After moving backto Bellevue post-university, I lived in a tiny apartment, thenmoved to a bigger one a few years later when I was making bettermoney. Around the time I turned thirty, my parents startedpressuring me to buy a house, claiming I was wasting money on rentand should own my own home. I wasn’t ready for the commitment of ahouse, but I didn’t like the slim pickings of apartments for salein the area. That same year, a property development company beganconstruction on a series of condo buildings with some to rent andsome to buy. I bought this apartment and moved in three yearsago.
“Thisplace is great, Ev,” Wesley says, brushing the backs of his fingersover the fluffy decorative pillow on the chair under the window.“It’s very…you.”
“Andyou’re being very un-youby avoiding my question.”
I almost don’thear Wesley’s sigh over the sudden surge of laughter from theliving room. I’m surprised the girls haven’t come looking for usyet.
Wesley returns toperusing my bookshelves. Even in profile, I can see the soft smilethat overtakes his face, and I know exactly what he’s looking at.“I love that these have a place of honor on yourshelves.”
Mybookcase has a mix of long shelves and little nooks. One of thenooks holds a signed copy of Cary Elwes’s memoir,As You Wish: Inconceivable Tales from the Makingof The Princess Bride. Wesley met Caryduring his book tour and got him to sign a copy for me. He alsoasked Cary to pose with him for a picture while the two of themheld a photograph between them of me at age twelve wearing my redButtercup dress. I cried like a baby when Wesley presented me withthe book and framed photo at Christmas that year.
“They’re among my most prized possessions,” I tell him. “Istill can’t believe you took a picture of me with you to thesigning and asked Cary to pose with it.”
Hissmile wavers as he turns to face me fully. He takes a sip of hiswine, followed by another, larger drink. “Iamdealing with some stuff while I’mhere, but it can wait for a few hours,” he says, picking up ouroriginal conversation as if we hadn’t just detoured. “Getting achance to spend time with you is more important.”
His words washover me like warm water. I’m sure he means ‘you’ in the pluralsense to include Stella, Hollie, and Louisa, but still. “Iseverything okay? You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’tyou?”
“Yeah,of course. I don’t mean to be secretive or evasive. It’s kind ofcomplicated, and I’d like a break from all of it. Can we just enjoytonight and forget about everything else if I promise to tell youwhat’s going on once it’s all sorted?”
Now it’s my turnto sigh. As much as I hate not knowing what’s going on, I need totrust that if Wesley is keeping something from me, there’s a goodreason, and he’ll tell me when he’s ready.
Wanting to see himsmile again, I narrow my eyes and ask, “Does Stellaknow?”
Bingo.His lips twitch for a secondbefore spreading into that crooked smile. “If I say yes will yourescind your invitation for me to stay?”
“Maybe.”
“Thenno, Stella doesn’t know.”
“Andhere I was just thinking you’re one of the most honest people Iknow,” I say, shaking my head in mock disappointment. “Fine. Keepyour secrets for now. And you can stay, but you’re on wine top-upduty tonight, and I plan to drink at least a whole bottle since Idon’t have to work tomorrow.”
Wesley chuckles ashe crosses the room once more. He stops in front of me, resting hishands on my shoulders. For a brief, wonderful moment, I think he’sgoing to kiss me. I suck in a breath as he leans in and presses hislips to my cheek. The kiss is friendly. Brotherly, even. The kindof kiss he’s given me a million times since we reached adulthood.The “BFFs” playlist he sent me on Thanksgiving night flashes intomy mind, and I have to fight to keep the smile on myface.
“Let’sget some food in you then, eh?” He shifts to stand behind me so hecan gently push me toward the door. I guess I should be grateful hedoesn’t frog-march me from the room the way he did when we werekids.
*****
After dinner, amovie, and a bit of light conversation that includes me telling myfriends about my talk with Mom this morning, Hollie and Louisa callit a night and head home.
Wesley lingersnear the front door after the girls leave. “I guess I should getgoing too.” The hesitation in his words makes me want to invite himto stick around for a while longer. He and Stella seem to havepatched things up, but I don’t want to appear too eager or upsetthe balance again.
“Youshould stay,” Stella says. She looks to me for confirmation, and Inod silently, pressing my lips together to hold back a delightedgrin. “It’ll be like old times, just the three of us.”
“Thanks, Little Star.” Wesley grips his sister’s shoulder andyanks her in for a tight, one-armed hug while messing up her hairwith his free hand. Yep, just like old times.
