As October passed, my schedule began to calm down a bit. I only had to check in periodically at the new home site because the guys seemed like they were finally able to function without my constant supervision. And Eva managed to get into the groove of the school year. She decided to play volleyball and seemed to have a handle on her grades. We’d gone to a few Sixers games together, but I had to admit I was thankful when she went to a dance and a few sleepovers. It gave me some time to do my own thing.
When Halloween arrived, I was glad Eva had decided against the Miley Cyrus costume she’d originally planned. When her friend Christina suggested that she and a few of her friends dress as the Pretty Little Liars, I couldn’t have been happier. I knew it would be a significant improvement on her first choice. Well, maybe significant isn’t the correct term. Slight might be more accurate. It certainly beat the image that had haunted my nightmares for the past few weeks: one that involved my scantily clad thirteen-year-old daughter prancing around the neighborhood with a shaved head and a sledgehammer.
I’d let her stay out later than usual because the girls had planned to go back to Christina’s with their candy and watch a movie. I knew she was growing up, and this would be one of her last years trick-or-treating, so I wanted her to enjoy the time with her friends. But like any concerned father, I waited by the door until Christina’s mom dropped Eva off a little before 11:30. As she skipped through the door wide awake, I’d pretended to be asleep on the couch so she wouldn’t know I’d been waiting up for her.
A while later, I heard her settle in for the night, and as I crept to the top of the stairs, I couldn’t resist peeking in her room to see her sleeping peacefully. Now I could do the same.
***
The next morning, as usual, I packed Eva’s lunch and said goodbye as she left for the bus. I planned to head into the office for a bit to do some drawings, and wanted to go to Eva’s volleyball game after school. With my laptop bag and a bottle of water in hand, I headed out the door.
For weeks, I hadn’t managed to get to the coffee shop before work, but since I had a light day ahead of me, I decided a relaxing morning was in order as well. I would enjoy a cup of coffee and read the paper quietly—something I hadn’t done in a while. As I entered, I realized just how much I’d missed the smell of freshly ground coffee beans. Since I wasn’t in a rush, I figured I’d wait until the line died down a bit before I ordered. So I swiped a newspaper off the rack by the door and settled myself into a high-top table by the window.
As customers made their way through the door, the crisp autumn air mingled with the warmth of the coffeehouse. I paid little attention to what was happening around me, happily engrossing myself in the paper for a few minutes until I glanced up to see that the line had gotten considerably shorter.
I wasn’t much of a coffee snob, but for some reason I had the urge to try something new. My eyes stayed fixed on the menu above the baristas’ heads—a menu I wasn’t at all familiar with because I never deviated from my usual order. As the line dwindled, I inched my way closer to the counter and studied the choices before me: lattes, macchiatos, cappuccinos, espressos. I had no idea what to get. But when my turn came and the barista stared at me for a moment, I knew exactly what I wanted: the usual.
“Large hot coffee, two sugars, right?” the barista asked, sliding the tall cup my way.
I was immediately confused. I didn’t even recognize the small blonde girl working today. There was no way she would have recognized me, let alone know what I wanted to drink. “Right, how did you . . .?” my voice trailed off.
“I didn’t,” she replied with a shrug. “But she did.”
I spun around in the direction of the doors and stretched my head around the line behind me to look out the glass. I barely heard her when the girl at the counter told me my coffee had been paid for too. I’d been too captivated by who I’d seen outside.
Just as she’d gotten into her car, my eyes locked with Lily’s for a split second. A second that seemed both too long and not long enough. And as I watched her drive away, I was surprised by my first thought: I didn’t even know she knew how I took my coffee.
I put the cup to my lips and let the smooth familiar taste slide down my throat, thinking that despite my fleeting craving for change, I ultimately always came back to what I already loved.
Chapter 11: Lily
What was that look? Was he confused? Was he happy to see me? He didn’t look happy. I couldn’t describe what I saw on Adam’s face when his gaze caught mine as I’d entered my car.
Though I’m not sure why, I hadn’t expected Adam to realize I’d even been there. As I stood in line, I’d glanced behind me to see him reading the paper alone. I’d been overcome with the urge to sit down across from him. To be staring into his bright green eyes like it was seven months ago and our lives together were in our future instead of in our past.