by Rachel Lacey
“I have a proposition for you,” Adam said as he expertly mixed three Midnight in Manhattans in a row.
“Oh yeah?”
“Hire me full-time, and I’ll quit my job at the bank.”
“What?” She stared at him like he’d just told her he had a date with a woman.
“This is more fun, and with tips, I could make more here than I’m making there. Doing both is wearing me out.”
“You’re already working three nights a week. How many more shifts do you want?”
“Give me two more to start. If five nights is too much, I’ll drop back to four.”
“Yeah, wow, okay.” Having Adam here five nights a week was a million times better than hiring someone new, and it would only leave her one night a week on her own. It was doable. And it would get her by until she was back on her feet again.
If only she could find a similar patch for her heart.
Eve had thought everything about this was going to be easier. She’d thought that once she broke up with Josie, things would go back to normal. But here she was, over a week after she’d filmed her follow-up segment at Dragonfly, only a few days before the finished episode was set to air, and she was still miserable. She’d gotten back into all her old routines, but none of them brought her the same sense of joy and peace they once had.
She missed Josie. She even missed the damn kittens. She missed middle-of-the-night bottle feedings and waking to the fruity smell of Josie’s shampoo. She missed holding her, kissing her, fucking her until they were breathless and sated.
On Thursday, when she still couldn’t shake her melancholy, she wasn’t entirely surprised to find herself boarding the commuter train to New Jersey after work, something she hadn’t done in a long time. Too long. She got off near Freehold, Lisa’s hometown, and called an Uber to take her to the cemetery. She almost smiled when she remembered the night she’d insisted Josie text her the vehicle information before she got into a car by herself.
Eve had ridden alone in plenty of Ubers, but there were certain situations—like when she was outside the city, about to travel on less populated roads—that made her more aware of her vulnerability as a woman. The irony of the situation was that she didn’t have anyone to text her vehicle information to, not a single person in her life who cared enough to make sure she made it safely to her destination.
That wasn’t entirely true. There wasn’t a single person Eve had allowed to care. Because Josie had wanted to be that person for her. Hell, Josie would be here with her now, riding beside her while the annoyingly talkative but thankfully not creepy Uber driver took her to the cemetery on the other side of town.
Nostalgia rolled over her as the car passed a road that would have taken her to the apartment where she’d lived with Lisa. Eve had never wanted to live in the suburbs. She’d moved to New Jersey as a stepping-stone on her path to Manhattan. She’d never planned to fall in love and get married here, but she’d been happy.
If she hadn’t lost Lisa, she would probably still be living in Freehold, commuting to work in the city, or maybe she’d be running Marlow Marketing out of her home office so she could spend more time with her family.
And maybe that was exactly what Josie meant when she said she’d never wanted to own her dad’s bar but would still do anything to save it. She’d had to put her dreams on hold to take over the family business. Eve had put her dreams on hold to start a family. Both of their lives had taken unexpected turns, both altered by tragedy. As she watched her old neighborhood pass by outside the window, Eve finally understood Josie’s motivations.
It was getting dark when she arrived at the cemetery, streetlamps flickering around her as they turned on, casting their yellowish glow over the setting sun. She’d bought flowers at a stand in the train station, although she hadn’t been able to find sunflowers—Lisa’s favorite—so she’d settled for a colorful mixed arrangement.
But as she crouched in front of the simple granite headstone that marked her wife and daughter’s final resting place, she found an arrangement of white carnations already there. They were somewhat wilted, as if they were a few days old. Who were they from? Lisa’s parents always brought roses or sunflowers. Eve moved them to the side and set down her own flowers. She touched Lisa’s name, pressing her fingers against the cold stone.
“I miss you,” she whispered, steadying her breathing until she could see through the tears clouding her vision. Then she stood, one heel sinking into the grass, throwing her off-balance. She shifted her weight, yanking it free. Rookie mistake, wearing heels to the cemetery. She was out of practice.
Eve had never known quite what to do with herself here. She wasn’t going to curl up on Lisa’s grave and cry, no matter how tempting that felt at the moment. Talking to her dead wife felt similarly uncomfortable. Instead, she walked to a nearby bench and sat. There was a heaviness inside her that seemed to press her into its harsh metal surface.
This was why she didn’t come. The grief here was overwhelming. Her bottom lip shook, and her eyes ached with unshed tears. Her chest felt as if it had turned to lead. Casting a somewhat desperate glance around the cemetery, Eve’s eyes caught on another arrangement of white carnations, identical to the one on Lisa’s grave.
Curious, she stood. As she walked to the other grave, she was hit with a sense of déjà vu. Derek Felton. Why was that name familiar? But just as quickly, she remembered. She’d met Derek’s widow, Regina, here at the cemetery just a few months after Lisa’s death. Derek had been gone only a month. Eve and Regina had sat together for hours, laughing and crying, finding comfort in their shared grief. After that first afternoon, they’d met for coffee a few times before eventually losing touch.
Had Regina put flowers on Lisa’s grave? Had she been bringing her flowers for six years?
Eve blew out a breath, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. She hadn’t thought of Regina in years, had never brought flowers for her husband. Maybe she really did deserve her icy reputation. More tears fell, and she swiped at them angrily. This was her life now, alone and miserable, crying in front of a stranger’s grave.
But he wasn’t a stranger. She’d never met Derek, but Regina had told her so much about him, Eve felt like she knew him in some small way. He’d been a good man, and he’d left behind a widow every bit as heartbroken as Eve herself had been.
She should call Regina and thank her for the flowers. The thought crystallized in her mind, and before she could second-guess herself, she pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts, half-surprised to find Regina’s number still stored in her address book. Eve pressed Send, resting one hand against Derek’s headstone as the phone rang.
“Hello?” a woman answered.
“Regina?” Eve asked.
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“I’m Eve Marlow. We met…well, we met at the cemetery about six years ago.”
Regina gasped. “Eve. Wow, it’s been a long time.”
“It has,” Eve agreed. “This might be an odd question, but I found carnations on my wife’s grave, and the same flowers on your husband’s. Did you bring them?”
“Yes, I did,” Regina answered with a smile in her voice. “I’ve brought her flowers a few times over the years.”
“Thank you.” Eve’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “I really appreciate that.”
“Of course,” Regina said. “I’m so glad you called. I lost all my contacts a few years ago, but I’ve often wondered how you were doing.”
“I’m…okay,” Eve said, feeling anything but okay. Maybe this was why she’d really called Regina, because they had this in common. They both knew the pain of losing a spouse. Suddenly, Eve needed to commiserate with her on how fucking miserable it was, even now. “How are you?”
“I had a rough time after Derek passed,” Regina said. “But I’m remarried now.”
Eve inhaled sharply. “Oh, wow. Congratulations.”
“Thank you. We have two little boys, Lucas and
Braden. They keep me on my toes,” Regina said as the sound of children’s laughter carried over the line.
“I bet.” Eve looked around herself at the deserted cemetery. She’d never felt more alone.
“Have you found someone new?” Regina asked.
“No.” Eve shifted her feet as her heels again sank into the grass.
“It’s a hard place to be,” Regina said, her voice kind. “When you fall in love and walk down that aisle, you never imagine having to do it twice.”
“I’m not sure I want to do it twice.”
“Believe me, I understand that feeling. But we don’t stop living when they die, so don’t ever feel guilty about finding happiness again with someone else. Your wife would have wanted that for you.”
Eve brushed at her eyes. “I couldn’t go through it again, losing someone.”
“Well, I hope you never have to. I hope neither of us do. But don’t let your fear keep you from finding happiness.”
Eve had a sinking feeling she already had. She wasn’t sure she even remembered what it felt like to be happy. Maybe it felt like Josie’s laugh, Josie’s kiss, tiny kitten paws leaving fur all over her dress. She gasped, pressing a hand over her eyes to stanch the tears.
“Hey, are you okay?” Regina asked in her ear.
No. “Yeah,” she said. “I should go. Thanks again for the flowers.”
“It was my pleasure,” Regina said. “Would you like to grab a coffee sometime and catch up?”
Eve blinked her composure back into place. “I wish I could, but I actually live in the city now. I don’t get out here very often…hardly ever, to be honest. I just needed to be here today.”
“I understand,” Regina said. “Well, take care. I’ll bring Lisa more carnations the next time I visit the cemetery.”
“Are you free tonight?” Eve blurted, surprising herself. “I mean, if you wanted to get together while I’m in town.”
“I’d love that,” Regina said warmly. “I’d need to wait until my husband gets home to watch the boys, but I could meet you at the Starbucks on Main Street in about an hour, if that works for you?”
“I’ll see you there.” Eve ended the call, releasing a shaky breath. Since she had some time to kill, she sat on the bench closest to Lisa’s grave—the same one she and Regina had sat on together all those years ago—as night fell around her. And there, alone in the cemetery, she let the tears fall. She cried for Lisa, for their daughter, for the long years she’d endured without them.
She’d broken up with Josie to protect herself from losing her too, but how was this better? She could either open her heart and risk getting hurt again, or she could live alone forever. And right here, right now, she couldn’t bear to be alone another second.
Drying her eyes, she pulled out her compact and fixed her makeup. Then, feeling a sense of purpose she hadn’t felt in weeks, she requested an Uber to take her to Starbucks.
29
“It’s almost time.” Adam turned up the volume on the TV they’d had installed in the bar just for the occasion. Dragonfly was bursting with people—friends, family, and customers. It seemed like everyone Josie had ever met was here tonight to watch her on Do Over…with one notable exception.
“This is so exciting,” her Aunt Cecily said, perched on the barstool that used to be Eve’s, looking very hip for her years with a beer in one hand, cell phone in the other. “I hope I made the final cut. That nice cameraman filmed me making a toast on opening night.”
Even her Uncle Timothy had come tonight, although he wore a sour expression, nursing a beer at a table in back.
“Hush, you guys, here we go,” Adam called out, practically bouncing with excitement.
Josie felt like bouncing herself, a combination of nerves and anticipation. This was the moment she’d been waiting for, the moment the world would meet her and watch her bar transform from Swanson’s to Dragonfly, the moment that would hopefully give Eve a ratings bump and the third season she wanted.
Speaking of Eve, there she was on the screen, speaking earnestly to the camera as she walked through Swanson’s, although Josie couldn’t focus on what she was saying over the activity in the bar and the chaotic emotions churning inside her. She’d have to watch the episode again tomorrow in her apartment, when she could devote her full attention to it.
“Oh.” Aunt Cecily pressed a hand against her chest. “Look at it. I can almost see Gerry behind the bar.”
Josie blinked. Yeah, she could see her dad behind the bar too. She’d kept everything just the way he’d left it, until Eve came along. For a moment, she missed him—and Swanson’s—so much, she had to bite her lip to force back the tears.
“There you are!” her cousin Bryce called out, raising his beer in appreciation.
“There I am,” Josie repeated as she watched herself mixing drinks behind the old bar. She didn’t mind seeing herself on camera. She had a YouTube channel, after all, but it was strange to see herself on national television, wearing all that makeup.
Kaia—sitting at a table in back with several of her friends—squealed when she and Adam appeared on screen, being interviewed by Eve about their friendship with Josie. She rushed over to the bar, and Adam joined them for a group hug.
The show cut to commercial, and the noise level in the bar exploded as everyone began to discuss what they’d seen so far. She and Adam mixed and poured drinks as quickly as they could, and before they knew it, Do Over was back.
Eve and Josie were seated across from each other in that staged scene where Eve told her about her plans for the new bar, and Josie felt like the air had been knocked out of her lungs. Eve looked so impossibly beautiful, so confident, so poised. Josie looked away, stacking glasses to keep herself busy. Just a few weeks ago, she’d imagined this night going so differently. She’d thought Eve would be here with her, drinking and celebrating, sharing her bed later tonight.
It had been two weeks since they filmed the follow-up segment, and she hadn’t heard a word from Eve, not even to remind her about the show tonight. At first, Josie had checked her phone obsessively, hoping against hope she might call or text. She’d spent weeks looking expectantly at Dragonfly’s door every time it opened, hoping Eve might walk through it.
Now, she was just tired. And sad. But mostly tired. As the show continued, Josie found herself focusing more on her customers than the television, because seeing herself on screen with Eve was…hard.
And then, there was Eve in that zipper-front dress on opening night. God, she’d driven Josie mad in that dress. She could still hear the hiss of the metal as she’d unzipped it later that night. She’d probably never look at another zipper-front dress without thinking of her. There were a lot of things she’d never see without thinking of Eve.
Suppressing a sigh, she poured beer for her cousins as footage from opening night aired on Do Over. Aunt Cecily appeared on screen, drawing a round of cheers from the crowd in Dragonfly. She slid off her stool to bow dramatically, grinning from ear to ear.
“Bucket list item achieved!” she called out, pointing to herself on the television.
After another commercial break, the final scene began to air. This was the follow-up segment where Eve revisited the bar to see how Dragonfly was doing after its first month in business. There was Eve, as calm and collected as ever. The intensity that had shimmered between her and Josie during their earlier scenes was missing here. They barely looked at each other, keeping their interactions to a bare minimum. Josie didn’t think anyone else would notice the difference, but it was all she could see.
When the show ended, the whole bar burst into applause. Uncle George bought everyone a round of drinks, and the party kept going for hours. Her relatives headed home around midnight, but she had a steady stream of regular customers until closing. Everyone congratulated her on the show, and she thanked them all for coming. She and Adam closed up together, exchanging a lengthy hug before he headed out.
“Congrats, lady. You really did
it,” he said, his hand rubbing up and down her back.
“We did it,” she told him. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“It’s been a good change for both of us.”
She was exhausted as she climbed the stairs to her apartment, relieved that the episode had been well received—by her customers and family, at least—but overwhelmingly sad at the same time. Seeing herself on screen with Eve had stirred up so many emotions. She had a strong feeling she was going to burst into tears the moment she stepped into her apartment.
Halfway up the steps, she jolted to a stop. Someone was sitting at the top of the stairs, leaned against the door to her apartment. Adrenaline flooded her veins, but she’d barely registered alarm before she recognized the sleeping figure.
Eve.
Josie blinked hard, wondering if she was hallucinating. Dreaming? Because there was no way the real-life Eve Marlow was slumped in the doorway to her apartment in the middle of the night, fast asleep. It was past five now. Morning, basically.
Josie crouched in front of her. Eve had on jeans and a pink sleeveless top, hair covering her face as her head rested against the doorframe. Josie reached out and touched her arm. “Eve?”
She tipped forward, almost toppling Josie down the stairs in her surprise. Josie braced one hand against the wall, the other on Eve’s chest, steadying them. Her heart thumped beneath Josie’s palm the way it had that day in her apartment, the day they broke up. Eve stared at her now, faces inches apart. Her eyes were wide and unfocused from sleep.
“What are you doing here?” Josie whispered.
Eve blinked several times, her gaze dropping to Josie’s lips. “The show.”
“Yeah, we watched it downstairs. My whole family was here.” Josie smiled softly.
“Did they like it?” Eve asked in a hushed voice.
“Yes. Did you, um, want to come in?”
Eve nodded, still looking disoriented, but there was something else about her, something Josie couldn’t quite put her finger on. Maybe it was just that she’d fallen asleep, but she seemed more subdued than she had the last time Josie saw her, like she’d left her armor at home.
