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“I miss your family! How are Steve and Maria doing? Alex?”
“They’re okay,” she says. Something about the way she says it—the way the light in her eyes fades a bit—makes me think there’s something going on there. But it’s not my place to press.
“I still think about your mom’s grits casserole. The one she made that year over Christmas break—remember that? God, it was good.”
She grins. “I do remember. My dad may get all the kudos for his barbecue, but my mom is a true pro at the family classics like that. Mexican recipes, and Lowcountry ones, too.”
She drains her cocktail. Watching the sinews of her throat work as she swallows, I feel a leap of excitement at the idea that Eva’s in town for the foreseeable future. I’ve missed this—real, adult conversation. Not business. Not babies. No bullshit.
Just a guy and a girl talking ideas. Anxieties.
I wonder if Hannah can stay any later than ten.
I nod at Eva’s now empty glass. “Another?”
Eva looks at me. I look back.
“Please,” she says, and starts to dig her wallet out of her bag.
I touch one hand to her arm and raise the other for the bartender.
“I can buy my own drinks, you know,” she says.
“I know you can. But the least this jackass can do is treat you to a few rounds. You need it, and so do I.”
She smiles. “Look at the two of us—still walking around with the weight of the world on our shoulders. I can’t imagine life as a single dad is easy.”
“Christ no.” I quickly order our drinks when the bartender appears, then turn back to Eva. “It’s the best, most difficult thing I’ve ever done. There’s a reason Bryce is my world. She’s often what gets me through the day. She’s my why. But yeah. Definitely wasn’t expecting to have to do this whole parenthood thing on my own. She’s pretty cute though, isn’t she?”
Digging my phone out of my pocket, I hold it out and scroll through the most recent pictures I have of my daughter. Her pretending to talk on her pink and white plastic cell phone. The two of us on my boat. “Sorry if I’m being that guy showing off pictures of his four-year-old kid at a bar—”
“Stop. She’s adorable. So are you,” Eva says, smiling—eyes and all—at the pictures. I tuck the phone back into my pocket. “So are you divorced, or…?”
“Widowed.” Even after all this time, my throat still tightens at the word. Widower. “My wife passed away four years ago, right after Bryce was born.”
I miss Rebecca, and talk to Bryce about her all the time. It’s important to me that I keep her memory alive. Losing her was just as horrible as you’d imagine. But now that the grief isn’t so sharp anymore, I can focus on making her a part of our daily lives.
“My God, Ford. I’m so sorry.”
I grab our drinks from the bartender and pass one to Eva. Her brow is curved upward, expression soft with concern.
“Not gonna lie, losing Rebecca was devastating.” I take a long, slow sip of whiskey, loosening the walls of my throat. “But thanks to time, therapy, and a lot of help from my family, I’m able to function again.”
Eva nods. “How did you guys meet?”
I grin at the memory. “At work, back when I still lived in California. We were analysts at the same investment bank. Bonded over the hellacious hours and our insane coworkers. Together we quit, took the leap into the next phase of our careers, and moved down south. She was my partner in crime.”
Eva nods. “She sounds lovely.”
“She was. Thankfully Bryce takes more after her. Same smarts. Same smile. It used to hurt, having that reminder around of what I lost. But now I treasure those moments when I see Rebecca in my daughter.”
“Right.” Eva nods again. “Not so much a reminder of loss, but of goodness. Goodness you were lucky enough to experience, even just for a little while.”
I nod, too. Of course Eva is not only totally cool with discussing my wife who passed away. She also gets it. She gets what I’m feeling, why I’d feel it.
“That’s exactly it. Granted, it took three years of therapy for me to see things that way. And being a single parent—my God, I miss having a partner to help raise Bryce.”
“You said it’s not easy being a single dad. Talk to me about that.”
I take a breath. Take a sip of whiskey. As difficult as things in my life feel right now, it feels good to talk about them.
“I have a lot of really great help, which I know most parents don’t. So I’m lucky. But even so, the juggle is…Eva, it’s fucking brutal. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Things are really good right now. Bryce is happy and healthy, my family is healthy. Job is going ridiculously well—Grey and I have worked for years to get to this place. I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished and the mark we’re making on this city. I’m excited for projects we have in the pipeline.”
