“Yeah, well, she misses you. So, if you’re not busy, she’d appreciate it.”
More silence for a beat. “I’d love to visit with them. I can be over in twenty minutes.”
“Great,” I say.
“Great,” she responds. “I’ll see you soon.”
“No, you won’t,” I say a little too abruptly. I rub my fingers up and down my forehead. “Evan is coming over. We’re having dinner, so I won’t be at Natasha’s apartment.”
“Oh… okay. I’m glad you and Evan are reconnecting. I hope it all goes well.”
“Thanks. Me too.”
We’re both silent, like no one wants to hang up, then there’s a knock on the door. “Evan’s here. Have fun with Natasha and Remi.” With that, I hang up.
Tossing the phone on the couch beside me, I blow out a deep breath. Daisy is doing something to me. She’s getting under my skin, and I don’t know what to do about it. I need to either fuck her or forget her. One, I’m happy to do, if it weren’t for Evan. The other, I’m not sure is possible, and that scares the crap out of me.
There’s another knock. I can’t keep sitting here thinking about Daisy. Getting up, I walk over to the door and let Evan in, who’s carrying two pizza boxes he insisted on picking up on his way over.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” We stand by the door. For a moment, we’re both a little awkward. “The kitchen’s through here.” I point, and we head that way.
In the kitchen, I gather plates, napkins and two beers and set them on the dining table.
The awkwardness continues as we sit down and tuck into the pizza. “Deliver any babies today?” I ask to fill the silence.
Evan swallows the mouthful of food before answering, “No babies today. I had a full day of appointments with expectant mothers though.”
“How many babies would you deliver in a month?” What is this crap coming from my mouth? I don’t care how many babies he delivers.
He takes a swig of beer and rests the bottle on the table. “It varies. Sometimes I can deliver around twenty-five. Other times it’s as little as five.”
I scrunch up my napkin and toss it onto my plate. This small talk is fucked up. “Are you happy?” I get to the point of what I really want to know. The private investigator can only tell and show me so much. Pictures might show a happy family. No one ever knows what happens behind closed doors.
Evan raises an eyebrow. “Am I happy?”
I nod.
Leaning back in his chair, a look of confusion crosses his face like he’s wondering where this conversation is going. “Most days, yes. Like everyone, you can’t be happy all the time.”
“Did your parents treat you well… love you?” It would kill me if they didn’t.
He smiles slightly and nods with understanding at what I really mean. “Yes. When they took me in, they showered me with so much affection. At first, I didn’t know what the hell was going on. For a while, I fought against it. I thought it was all an act. You know, like our parents did when the social worker turned up to check on us.” My jaw tightens at the memory. “When they continued to treat me with care and love all the time, I realized they were legit. They loved me and would do anything for me. Eventually, I stopped fighting them when I knew I was in a loving family.”
Nothing makes me happier than knowing Evan had been given the best life. “I’m glad it worked out for you.”
“I only wish we weren’t separated. You would’ve had a better childhood too. Had the love you deserved.”
Love I deserved?I don’t think I could ever be loved, which I’m fine about. If anyone tried, they’d only end up disappointed because I could never return it. Something broke inside me a long time ago.
“So, do you follow the football?” I ask to change the heavy subject. Learning he had a happy family life is all I need to know.
“Sure do.”
“Who’s your team?”
He raises his beer in the air. “The Rams, of course.”
