Page 26 of Here We Go Again

7

THEO

After weeks of thinking about the moment I would finally talk to Becca, it’s surreal to be sitting across from her, watching her sip at her latte like we aren’t about to have a monumentally important conversation.

At least, important to me.

For all I know, she’s just hoping to get it over with.

She’s right about the inside of the coffee shop. It’s full of comfortable couches and cozy seating areas. We’re at a table in the corner, next to a window with a view of the grassy courtyard outside the hospital.

I can tell Becca’s nervous. She’s picking at the cardboard sleeve on her cup, and she’s not making a lot of eye contact. I wish she wanted this as much as I did, but after her earlier confession that she probably wouldn’t have texted if not for Garrison, I’m lucky to be here at all, so I’ll take whatever I can get.

I can’t stop hoping that this won’t be the last time I see her, but it might be, which means I have to get this right. Even if nothing else comes out of this, I want to give her the apology she deserves.

“So, my mom called this week and said she ran into your mom?” I say, and Becca’s eyes lift to mine.

“She did?”

“Weirdly enough, they’re in the same pickleball league.”

“Ahh,” Becca says with a nod. “So that’s why my mother has called me so many times this week.”

“You too? I thought it was just me.”

She laughs, and the tightness in my chest loosens. “You get the bonus points for being the one who answered,” she says.

“I’m glad your mom’s health is good enough for her to play,” I say. “Though it is weird to think about the two of them hanging out.”

“Yeah, that is strange,” she says. “Maybe it shouldn’t be? They both still live in Frisco, on the same side of town. It’s maybe more strange they haven’t run into each other before now.”

“True,” I say. “I hadn’t thought about it like that. Just because we grew up and moved away doesn’t mean they did.” I pause for a beat before asking, “How’s your dad?”

“He’s great,” she says. “The same, really. Still a pharmacist at the Walgreens on Harris Ave. Still taking care of Mom when she needs it.”

I never spent much time with Becca’s dad. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist and let his wife do most of the talking whenever I was over at their house. But it was obvious he was wholly dedicated to his family. He reminded me of my dad in that sense. He knew how to show up.

A familiar twinge of sadness shoots through me at the thought of my dad, but this time, there’s something else with it. A sense of gratitude that for seventeen years, I got to learn from the best possible father a kid could have. That’s more than a lot of people can say.

That’s new—finding the gratitude inside the sadness.

I guess my stupid brother was right about therapy.

“And your sisters?” I ask Becca. “What are they up to?”

She grins. “Gigi just graduated from high school. And Alyssa is a sophomore at UT - Austin.”

“It does not make sense that they are so old.”

“Tell me about it,” Becca says. “It’s still hard for me to believe.”

We spend the next few minutes talking about her family, her work as a travel nurse, her cousin Indigo, whom I remember meeting one summer when we were still in high school. She tells me all about her life in California and why it’s such a great place for travel nursing. She talks about her best friend, Mia, and her home up in North Carolina, just over the Georgia border. Mia’s mom owns a bakery, and when the two of them have a few days off at the same time, they love to drive up for a weekend in the mountains and an endless supply of blueberry muffins.

It’s nice hearing about her life—I could honestly talk to her all day—but the longer we sit, the more I feel like time is slipping away, like I might miss my opportunity to say what I came here to say. I can only delay the inevitable for so long.

“So you’ll go back to California when you’re finished here?” I ask, mentally kicking myself for stalling again. Her latte is already gone. What am I even doing?

“That’s always been the plan,” she says. “My boyfriend lives there, but … I don’t know. Things are a little complicated right now.”