“You okay, kiddo?” I ask.
She smirks with the corner of her mouth and shrugs her shoulders as she slides back into the booth. “I figured you two needed a minute to talk,” she says.
“Ever, you don’t have to leave because of us,” Cammy says to her.
“I know you guys are probably freaked out. Having me show up must be pretty crazy, but I think I just realized how much I need to beg you both not to send me back to that crappy foster home.” Ever sits back against the bench and slouches down, folding her arms over her chest like I keep watching her do. I see the child she must have been, and I see the adult she’s avoiding becoming.
“Is that why you cleaned your face and took out some of those piercings?” I ask, and Cammy gives me a dirty look, warning me to cool it.
Instead of answering my question, Ever leans forward, takes her large, red plastic cup full of soda and drinks half of what’s in the cup.
“We’re not giving you up to anyone,” Cammy says. “We just need a plan.”
Ever looks out the window we’re sitting next to, staring out into the manicured gardens in the park area across the street, where the town gazebo sits between a mess of trees and benches. People are walking their dogs and children, and I realize most places aren’t as picture perfect as this area is seven months of the year. The other few months, with all of their snow, can just go away for all I care.
“Where did you live with your parents?” I ask. Her parents—still not getting any easier to say.
“Philadelphia, right in the city. It’s crowded and loud.” This town is the exact opposite of that. “I like it here.”
“So, I have to have a talk with Casper,” Cammy tells Ever. “And I’m sure AJ needs to have a talk with his wife, too, but we want to make things work, and maybe it would be best if that were here.”
“But your job…and you have a house,” Ever says.
“My job can move, and the house can stay there for now.” I guess when you have a lot of money, you can leave a house behind until you make a decision in life.
The waiter returns and places our pizza down in front of us, handing us each a plate. The pizza looks and smells delicious, and Ever digs in first, shoving the first slice into her mouth as if she were starving. “Looks like you haven’t had pizza in a while,” I say, watching with amazement.
“My parents wouldn’t allow anything that wasn’t gluten free into the house,” she says with a mouthful. “And this is full of delicious gluten.”
Cammy and I both laugh as we watch her chow down. “I thought you said you loved pizza?” I ask her.
“I had the school stuff sometimes,” she says, before gulping down the rest of her soda.
“That is not pizza. That’s cardboard with sauce and cheese disguised as pizza,” I correct her.
She smiles and takes another large bite. My heart has never hurt while watching someone eat, but seeing this little girl after all these years makes my heart break, as I think about all the years I missed.
I lift a piece of pizza from the metal pan and place it on Cammy’s plate before serving myself.
“AJ?” I hear from behind us.
I turn around and find—oh shit. “Hey, Tori!” Fuck! “What are you doing here, babe?”
“I—” she says, looking between me, Cammy, and Ever, “I was picking up the dry cleaning next door, and I saw you in the window.” My head has been in such a fog all morning. I didn’t consider that half of Tori’s errands occur on Main Street, right near here.
“Oh right,” I say. “Um…” I take a napkin and stand up from the table, taking Tori by the arm, over to the other side of the restaurant.
“What the hell is going on, AJ?” Considering she just found me in a pizza shop with another woman—an incredibly beautiful woman—and a teenage girl, she’s probably pretty pissed and a little confused…rightfully so.
I breathe out slowly and run my fingers through my hair. “This is going to be a lot to digest,” I tell her. This is not how I was planning to tell her. I should have told her two years ago, before we got married and had a child together. But we had our stupid ‘no past rule’ which eliminates beautiful ex-girlfriends, children that were given up for adoption, and whatever the hell makes a person have nervous breakdowns. “My past has come back into town.”
Tori crosses her arms and shifts her weight to one side, definitely more on the pissed side of things. “So what does that mean? What is she, an ex-girlfriend, wife, or something? You just decided to meet her for lunch today instead of working?”
“It’s not like that,” I tell her.
“Who’s the kid? Her sister?”
“Her daughter,” I correct.
“That’s impossible,” Tori snaps. “She must be a teenager.” I watch as Tori holds her focus on the back of Ever and Cammy’s heads.