Chapter 5
With the long hours I had put in the day before, I had no problem arranging to take off half a day of work and eleven forty-five in the morning saw me driving to Robert and Evan’s house. I was worried that the lunch would be awkward. Evan always so quiet, me, a little too nervous to make small talk. When I was pulling up to the curb at their house, I saw Evan peek out of the curtains, only to then slip out the door, locking it behind him, all before I even had a chance to get out of the car.
I hoped it wasn’t a bad sign.
The two of them lived together in a small house in Old Towne East, a historic neighborhood that sat just east of the city. It was a pretty, little Craftsman style house, in cream and varying shades of brown, the wide porch lined with hanging ferns. When Robert had purchased it cheap a few years back, it had been on the verge of falling apart. The entire neighborhood had been. Now it sat among an ever-growing number of renovations, and buying into Old Towne East had become an expensive proposition.
The silence in the car was awkward at first, but eventually Evan asked how I was enjoying the darkroom class, a subject I knew would come up.
“It’s going well, and I like it, I think. It’s all starting to come back, and I’ve met this woman named Elizabeth in the class who seems like a lot of fun,” I said, stealing a glance at him, and he smiled, pleased.
Once we arrived at a dark little restaurant on Mohawk Street and grabbed a booth, conversation moved on to other things, Evan chatting happily away, giving me a chance to gather my thoughts before finally broaching the subject I had wanted to discuss.
“Listen, I asked you to lunch so that I could apologize.”
“Oh.” He had obviously been expecting something completely different. “Okay.”
I wasn’t sure what I had planned to say but somehow, having already told Elizabeth, I found myself sharing the humiliation of my breakup. Evan listened, pale, hands covering his mouth during parts of the confession, hands grabbing at my own at others.
“Listen, Robert doesn’t know all this. Neither does Nicholas for that matter, but I know I have been taking my hurt and anger out on you.”
He nodded his head, but had a look on his face that told me he didn’t really understand.
“I think I haven’t given you a fair chance because all I saw when I looked at you was your age.”
Evan squinted at me. “So you thought me being young meant I was a man stealing hussy?”
I was silent, not sure what to say.
“I’m just giving you shit.” Evan said with a wide grin before slapping the table between us. “You’re forgiven.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “We can be friends?”
“Of course.” He jumped up to lean across the table, pulling me into a brief hug, before dropping back down on his side of the booth and leaning in close.
“You mean a lot to Robert and, while I hate to admit it, even when you were being a complete prick, I still liked you.”
“Why?” I couldn’t understand why he would choose to look past that.
“Well,” he said, pausing to think for a moment, leaning back in the booth and crossing his arms. “I could tell something was going on, here.” He tapped the place on his chest, just over his heart. “I even thought you might have had feelings for Robert.” He held up a hand when I started to say something. “That suspicion lasted for, like, two seconds. Anyway, sometimes I’d see these flashes of who you were underneath, you know, before you’d remembered to be an asshole again, and it made it hard for me to dislike you.”
I groaned, covering my face with my hands, and Evan laughed. “I am such a terrible person.”
“No,” he said, leaning forward to touch my arm, serious again. “I’ve never once thought that.”
We talked about other things then. About Evan’s job at an antique store, walking the floors, opening up cases and answering questions, my job, and about how Robert’s second novel would be out in hardback before Christmas. I fought against the desire to ask him about Elijah Fall. About how they knew each other. About the spouse that had passed away. About whether my suspicions were correct, and he was gay.
As we were finishing up, Evan’s cell rang. He stared at the screen a moment, debating, before he answered, shooting me a hesitant look. When I saw he was about to get up, I waved him back down and excused myself to the restroom, giving him a few minutes privacy and me a moment to think. Having finally made my apology for my behavior, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest, even more so because he had accepted it with such grace. That he promised without prompting to keep my humiliation a secret, even from Robert, said even more about him. I sincerely wanted to be the man’s friend.
When I returned to the table, Evan had finished his call and was ready to head out. We slipped out the door and started down the street to where my Jeep was parked at the curb, quiet until Evan brought up my photography class again, this time asking what I thought of Elijah.
I concentrated hard on not embarrassing myself, but I knew I blushed and had no doubt Evan had seen it, though he was kind enough not to say anything.
“Your friend’s a great photographer,” I said, and Evan gave me a bright smile. “I kind of took the liberty of peeking in his portfolio.” I grimaced, and Evan laughed.
“Caught, were you?” he asked, and I nodded my head, laughing.
“His work is wonderful. It’s like he…” I trailed off, momentarily at a loss for words.
“Like he isn’t just seeing the outside,” he supplied.
“Yes. Exactly.” I wasn’t sure why those words set an ache off inside of my chest. “It’s like, because he can see everything, he can see the beauty other people can’t.”
“But you saw it,” Evan said, smiling. “I thought you would.”
For some reason the words pleased me, and I smiled. “Well, sometimes it takes me a while,” I said, and Evan’s grin grew wider.
When I stopped to drop Evan off at his house, I retrieved my camera bag out of the cargo area, and he permitted me to take his photograph, my first for the following week’s film processing review. I had been trying to get back into the habit of carrying a camera on me, like I had done years ago, without success.
He stood at the top of the steps, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, head tilted, embarrassed.
I took that shot along with another, one where something I said made him laugh. I packed my camera away, declining an offer to come inside to wait for Robert, driving off, seeming lighter somehow. With the rest of the afternoon free, I stopped to pick up some groceries and to run a few errands before heading home to clean and do laundry, chores I would have normally saved for the weekend.
Once all my running was done, I headed out to hit the gym. Since Friday and Saturday were normally too busy, I always worked out on Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. I actually entertained the idea of taking off a night for a minute or two, the concerns of my friends ringing in my ears, but even as I knew that my exercise kick had been triggered by my ex, I also knew it was becoming more than a way to outrun my depression.
When my cell phone rang as I pulled into the lot, and a glance showed me it was Jason, I declined the call and left the phone in my passenger seat.