“Hey,” Lila answered in a solemn tone.
She answered. That was all that mattered to me. It meant something. A big something.
“Hey,” I replied on a sigh. A little relieved. A little sad.
“Evie, I don’t know what you said to Graham, but he’s visibly disturbed by it.”
“I don’t want to talk about Graham. I want to talk about us.”
“You don’t know what my life is like now, Evie. You don’t understand that my lack of being there for you isn’t because I don’t want to, it’s because I have so much pressure on me every single day. And it’s not an excuse for not doing more when you told me about your mom, it’s just my truth.”
“Well, I wouldn’t know your truth or understand how much pressure you have on you because you don’t talk to me. And if you’re really too busy to have a conversation with your best friend, then you need to give something else up before you lose yourself completely. That should worry you more than losing me. And if Graham doesn’t see it, then you need to make him see it. I worry you’re losing yourself in this new role, under the high pressure of being a Porter.”
“It’s just … I think it’s just the extra everything that comes with him being the governor. Once it’s over, things will go back to normal.”
“Normal? What is your normal? I’d love to have lunch with my best friend some time to get to know her again, to get to know this new normal. I have a new normal too. Do you ever wonder how my life has changed since I got married and started a family? I realize our lives have gone in two very different directions, and there’s not much relatability anymore between our lives, but there’s history and friendship. There’s this comfort in feeling like you can confide in this person because they know you better than anyone else. Don’t you miss that? Don’t you miss having that safe zone where you can truly be yourself?”
Silence took its turn on the line. It was hard to say everything because some things weren’t definable. My reaction with Graham was a culmination of feeling the loss of my friends mixed with the extreme toxicity of my mom’s situation. Maybe … maybe I didn’t hate Graham, but I hated the situation. And … well, he should have shown the fuck up for me. Just once, I needed something from him that money couldn’t buy. I needed him to give me back my Lila.
“Tuesday afternoon. Lunch. I’ll come to you. Graham will be gone all week.”
I laughed a little. “What if he weren’t? Can we not have lunch when he’s in town?”
“Evelyn …” Lila sighed. “I’m trying. I want this. I’m sorry that my life isn’t as simplistic as you’d like it to be. But … I’m trying.”
Simplistic sprinted out the door when cancer attacked my mom’s brain. Lila was right; gone were the days of spur of the moment lunches, giggling over guys, and shutting down the bars because we had nothing better to do.
“Text me the time and place.”
“Thank you,” she whispered before ending the call.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“I’m nervous. That’s crazy. Right? Why should I be nervous about lunch with my best friend? Well, other than the fact that I’m taking two young children with me, and we won’t actually get to talk that much.” I brushed through my hair and applied moisturizer to my face while Ronin finished showering.
I rarely woke up as early as he did on his early days, but I couldn’t sleep because I couldn’t stop thinking about lunch with Lila, and Ronin tossed and turned all night.
“See if Sue can watch them,” he mumbled, grabbing a towel and rubbing it over his wet head.
That body of his … it never got old. Sure, he had a little gray working its way into his hair and beard when he let it grow, but he kept the rest of his body looking like it did the day we met.
Perfect.
“I should wake up early … before the kids … and watch you shower more often.” I waltzed toward him, sliding my hands around his waist to curl my fingers into the hard flesh of his backside while licking water rivulets off his chest.
“Evie …” He dropped the towel from his head, giving me a painful grimace, his voice weak, his body slightly slumped.
“Not in the mood? No time?” I smirked. “I can be quick.”
My smile vanished as he stumbled a few steps to the side, grabbing the counter for support. Then it hit me. He didn’t sing. In the shower, he hadn’t sung a single note.
“Ronin!” I tried to grab him and slide an arm around his waist to support him, but he was nearly twice my size. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”