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For just a second, pain flashed in Joyce’s eyes, and I suddenly wish I hadn’t asked.
“Richard died last year,” she says gently. “Heart attack.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I didn’t know.”
“Oh, I’m all right,” she says quickly. “At least, that’s what I tell myself every day, you know. Who knows whether it’s actually true or not?” She shakes her head. “When you’ve been married to someone for fifty years, you get attached, you know?”
“I think that’s the idea.”
“Oh, it’s supposed to be. Plenty of people hate their spouses and won’t leave. Plenty of people. Not me, though. Not me and Richard. The two of us,” she smiles, obviously lost in some sort of pleasant memory. “We were forever,” she tells me.
“He was a good man.”
“The best man.”
“You were lucky to have him,” I tell her. “And he was lucky to have been loved by you.”
“And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Is there someone in your life?” She asks carefully. I know she’s already noticed my expensive clothing and the polished shoes. Joyce would never straight-up ask if I have money now, but it’s a little obvious. After I ran off with my dad, things changed for me, and I made a lot of decisions I probably shouldn’t have. Once I got squared up, though, well, things took a turn for the better.
“No,” I tell her, deciding to be honest. I’m not really sure why. Most of the time, honesty doesn’t really pay. At least, that’s been my experience. When people say they value honesty, they rarely mean it. People value things like gentle lies. They don’t want to know that someone has had a hard time, or that their relationships have been impossible, or that they’re still obsessing over lost love. “No one for me.”
“You know,” Joyce says, considering me. “Alicia is still single.”
“Why would you tell me that?” I bristle.
Joyce just shrugs.
“You two were quite the hot item, once upon a time.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Maybe,” Joyce says. “But I know she hasn’t stopped thinking about you.”
“You do? Did she say that?” I shouldn’t be asking for more information. I shouldn’t be getting excited or worked up over this, but I am. I totally, completely am. She misses me? Is there any chance she actually said those words to Joyce?
“She didn’t have to,” Joyce says gently. Then she taps the menu. “And as much as I’d love to get caught up, I’ve got a diner to clean before the lunch rush comes in. Can I get you anything?”
“Pancakes with bacon?” I ask hopefully, not bothering to open the menu.
Joyce smiles and pulls the menu away.
“Some things never change,” she smiles, and as she walks away, I wonder what she meant about Alicia. Why does she think Alicia never got over me? Why does she think that I should talk to her?
The truth is that I completely fucked Alicia over. We slept together and then I left. It was kind of a big deal. It wasn’t that I left because we slept together. I’d been planning on leaving the entire time. I just never told her. I never bothered to because...well, because it was her. It was her and it was me and I didn’t want anything to ruin the magic I thought we shared.
For the last five years, I’ve thought about her. I’ve considered calling her so many times, but I never worked up the nerve. What would I even say?
“Hey, sorry I gave you my virginity and then ran away?”
That would be so stupid.
Too stupid.
Nope.
