"Indulge me, you're fascinating to me."
I roll my eyes. That's me - fascinating. But I answer him anyway. "I used to tell Willow stories when we were kids and lived together in foster care. She loved them and even after we were adults and I would go over and clean her up from whatever mess she had gotten herself into; drug hangover, shit kicked out of her by a boyfriend, whatever." I wave my hand, trying to banish the images that immediately assault my brain. "Even as an adult she would ask me to tell her one of her stories. She would ask for them by name, even in a completely inebriated state sometimes."
"Sounds like she felt special in the ownership of them. She probably didn't have ownership of a lot. That's beautiful, Evie." Jake says gently.
I stare at him silently for a minute because that is beautiful when he puts it that way.
But I say, "In the beginning, it was just stupid kid stuff. I had a vivid imagination," I laugh but it sounds hollow even to my own ears.
"It came in handy. Just a kid trying to comprehend the incomprehensible, you know?"
He nods as if he understands, which of course he doesn't but it's nice anyway. It's so hard to explain growing up in foster care to someone who has no concept of that type of childhood. Of course, Jake hasn't told me anything about his own childhood so I don't know what his upbringing was like. Obviously his family has money though so it was eons apart from mine, at least in that respect.
"Will you tell me about Leo?" he says.
I take a sip of my wine. "Jake, I've shared a lot tonight and it felt good and that surprises me because I don't make it a habit of bringing up my past very often, but can we save Leo for another time? Is that okay?"
I don't tell him that I'm struggling a little bit with the feeling that I'm betraying Leo somehow, even though rationally I know that's ridiculous. He threw me away a long time ago, and he's not even of this earth anymore. I cringe inwardly with the thought.
He stares at me for a few seconds and I start squirming at his intense gaze so I ask him what he's thinking.
He comes around the bar and sits on the stool next to me and I turn towards him and he takes my hand and says, "I was just thinking about how much I appreciate you sharing with me tonight. And I was also thinking that from where I'm standing, you've done a pretty remarkable job of not letting your past make you hard. There's not a harsh or bitter thing about you, not a single thing, not your attitude, not the way you hold yourself, not your eyes, not your smile, not the way you treat people, always taking care of the people who are lucky enough to have your love, and that's just you. Life obviously took a lot from you and I know you've been cut deep, but the fact that you relied on yourself to make it through and that you didn't let it make you cynical or cold, that is all you. Own that. That's what I was thinking."
A tear slips out of my eye, I can't help it. He's making slow circles with his thumb on my hand and staring at me with those soulful brown eyes and that's when I fall in love with him, just sitting in his kitchen, I fall head over heels.
He smiles at me and gestures to the small glass table in the eating area next to the bar and I stand up and walk there as he pulls two placemats out of a drawer and puts them down on the table and then places napkins and silverware for each of us.
I sit down and he returns to the kitchen to dish up two plates and returns with them, and the bottle of wine.
He refills our glasses and we dig into the food, which is completely delicious.
"Okay, truly impressed," I say. "This is amazing." And it is. The steak is tender and succulent and the potatoes are spiced perfectly with crispy skin on the outside, soft and fluffy on the inside. The salad is crisp and even though it's from a bag, it's the perfect compliment to the dinner Jake's made from scratch.
When we've eaten in silence for a few minutes, I say, "Will you tell me about your parents? How did your dad pass?" I glance at him, nervous that I've brought up a painful subject, but he answers quickly.
"Heart attack. It was sudden. He lingered for a week afterwards but got a blood clot. That's what actually killed him."
"I'm sorry, Jake." I pause because his face seems like it's gotten hard. "You must miss him."
He sighs. "Yeah, I do. I wasted a lot of years with my dad that I can't ever get back."
"I'm sorry."
"It's ok. Really. It wasn't ok for a long time but I've come to a place where it's getting there." He pauses for a minute before he continues. "I realize now that there are a lot of paths in life. Some we choose and some are chosen for us. I was dealt some shit, just like a lot of us are, and I made a lot of poor choices too. I have to take responsibility for those. But the only thing we'll get from trying to figure out where another path would have taken us are questions there are no answers to and heartbreak that can't be healed. Regardless of how we got there, all any of us can do is move forward from where we are.”
He pauses and then says, "I'll tell you all about it, Evie. You've already given me so much of you, and I want to give you me, but not tonight. Tonight, I want to enjoy dinner and enjoy you and not bring up a bunch of shit that's going to put me in a bad mood. Okay?"
"Okay," I whisper, because it is. I feel like I know everything and nothing about Jake both at the same time and how can this be? I know how hard it is to share painful things with people, and that you have to feel ready to do that, no one should ever push you. I also know for sure that the man sitting in front of me is a good man. The rest will come. Everyone has a past, right?