Chasing Paris Page 22

  “He was in the house,” she bawled. “He was in the house. It’s gone now.” Her words slurred beneath the sobs. “It’s all gone. He was in there.”

  Eva closed her eyes, feeling life drain from her.

  “My sweet girls,” she said, trying to pull them even closer. “Oh my sweet girls.”

  Lizzie, she thought, her eyes to the sky, how could you do this?

  She squeezed each of the girl’s shoulders.

  “Let’s go home.”

  ***

  Amy looked up from the paper—the very last one in the stack that April had brought—and stared straight forward, silently. Will watched her. He waited.

  That’s it. The end of the story, she thought.

  “I want to go get a drink,” she said.

  THIRTY-TWO

  W

  ill and Amy walked from her house to North Santa Cruz Avenue in silence. Will wondered where they were going—and he wondered if they would run into Amy’s family on the way there. April hadn’t said where they were going to get coffee. Will hoped it wasn’t at the coffee shop where he and Amy met. And he hoped that Amy would say something—anything—but when nothing came, he decided to keep quiet as well.

  Once on the strip, Amy pointed toward a bar that Will had seen many times before. “There,” she said. They walked through a doorway, up a set of stairs, and into a darkened room filled with loud music. Amy pointed to a table close to the bar. They walked to it and sat down.

  Amy drummed her fingernails against the wood table. Her eyes focused on something over Will’s shoulder as though she was concentrating on gathering her thoughts. “Billy was in New York, wasn’t he?” she finally said. “That’s why Lizzie was going to New York.”

  Will nodded. “That’s one way to connect the dots.”

  Amy leaned toward the table and looked at Will. “But we do know that Billy was in New York at one time—he told her where he was in a letter. And that letter was after her first child was born. He could have still been there.”

  “Yep.”

  “So Lizzie left her family to see Billy, and while she was away, my mother watched her father die in a house fire—which she could, possibly, blame on herself because he ran up to the attic to find her.”

  Will nodded again.

  A waitress brought them each a beer. Amy immediately lifted hers to her lips. Will slumped back in his chair and stared at his.

  “How does my mom know about Billy?” Amy asked as she set down her glass.

  “She probably went through Eva’s stuff when she was a kid just like April did. Don’t all kids do that?” He glanced at Amy before refocusing his eyes on the glass before him. “But I don’t think it really matters. She obviously knows about him—that’s the bottom line. How she found out is irrelevant.”

  A chill traveled down Amy’s arms. “My mom saw her own father die. In a fire. And she was a little girl.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine. How could I have not known this?”

  Will kept his eyes on his beer. “I can see why your mom wouldn’t want you to dig all this up. It’s got to be pretty painful.”

  Amy nodded. “I know.” She paused and then leaned back in her chair. “Should I feel guilty? Now that I know what happened—now that I know how bad it was and why my mom didn’t want to talk about it? Should I feel guilty that I pursued this, despite my mom’s wishes?”

  “Do you feel guilty?”

  Amy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t think so. I mean, I had no idea that we’d find something so tragic. But, should something be hidden because it’s tragic?”

  “I don’t think your curiosity would have gone away.” With his head still angled downward toward his glass, Will lifted his eyes to Amy. “When I saw Billy today, he said something kind of interesting.”

  Amy waited for him to continue.

  “He said that he regrets some of the decisions he made with Lizzie, but when she came to him for help, he did his best to help her. And what happened to your family was not his fault.”

  Amy took a moment to absorb Will’s words. “How could that be? I don’t know if I believe that.” Her eyes wandered across the wall behind Will. “I have to think about something else now. There’s too much—it’s all too much.” She gulped more of her beer.

  Neither of them spoke for a moment. Will went back to staring at his drink. He thought about different ways to change the conversation. Anything about UCLA would do the trick. He could ask her where she lived in Westwood, what classes she liked best, or what she did for fun. Anything would do. But he didn’t feel like small talk.

  “So you’re really not going to call Miles tonight?” he asked.

  Amy shook her head. “No. Not tonight. I’m too mad at him.”

  “Maybe talking to him while you’re mad would be good. You could have a real fight where you yell and say what’s on your mind. It’s good to get those feelings out sometimes.”

  “You can express those feelings without yelling.”

  “True. But I think Miles needs to be yelled at. For a mistake like the one he made—he needs to be yelled at. You can clear the air and move on instead of harboring any resentment.”

  He hadn’t planned on bringing up Miles. He hadn’t ever planned to initiate this conversation. But after reading about Lizzie and John, he couldn’t stop himself.

  “You know, I don’t really understand you and Miles,” he said. “You don’t seem like a match. You don’t seem to connect.”

  Amy nodded. “I know.”

  Hesitating—knowing he might step over the line—he continued, “Is that why you still write letters to your ex-boyfriend?”

  Amy stared at her half-drunk glass of beer.

  “I don’t write him letters. He and I used to write letters, a long time ago, but there came a time when I stopped sending them. Now I just write my thoughts. Maybe they’re kind of like letters. I don’t know who they’re really written to. They’re just written.”

  Will leaned back in his chair, unsure how to phrase the thought in his mind, but deciding not to waste time choosing the perfect words.

  “I know you didn’t like when April told me about Jason, but she didn’t tell me that much. It seemed like it was pretty important, though.”

  Amy smiled at her glass, barely. “I guess everything is important in its own way. I wouldn’t be sitting here now if things had gone differently with Jason. Important or not, the story really isn’t very interesting. He was my boyfriend. We were together for three years. Then he fell out of love with me. And I didn’t understand. Nothing had changed—no one had done anything wrong. It simply was over. Suddenly I had a big hole in my life, and nothing I did could repair it.”

  “You didn’t know it was coming?”

  Amy shook her head. “I had no idea. And that was just about the time I had Professor Hollings’ class and began writing in the margins of my book. Jason had been my outlet for so long, and without him, I felt like I was spinning out of control with my thoughts.”

  Will found himself nodding even though Amy wasn’t looking at him.

  “It was hard. I missed not getting to talk to him on the phone some nights, hearing his voice in my ear as I drifted off to sleep. And I missed the way he’d twirl my hair around his finger while listening to me talk about whatever. But then I met Miles. And he really was so nice to me.”

  “It wasn’t the same, though, right? Being with Miles wasn’t the same as being with Jason, was it?”

  Amy forced a smile. “Sometimes I wonder if I feel about Miles the way Jason felt about me toward the end of our relationship.”

  “But you won’t break up with him?”

  “I don’t know if I should. Maybe we have what all good relationships have. Security, ease, contentment. Maybe it’s not realistic to want more than that.”

  “Do you really think that? Come on, we just spent the last hour reading the story of your grandmother’s life—and what happens when people settle. Sure, Bil
ly wasn’t the right person for Lizzie, but neither was her husband. She had security and ease and contentment with John, but that wasn’t enough.”

  “Lizzie and I aren’t the same person. She was wild and stubborn and passionate. I’m much more mild, and—”

  “That’s not the point. It doesn’t matter if you and Lizzie are the same. We all need someone who understands us, no matter what our traits are.” He paused, thinking, staring at his untouched beer. “John didn’t twirl Lizzie’s hair, either.”

  She shrugged and dropped her eyes back to the table.

  Perhaps Will had said too much.

  “So you and Jason remained friendly enough to exchange letters, but then at some point you stopped sending them?”

  “Yeah. I knew that Jason had headed to New York, but I didn’t tell him that I was still going there myself. I just went. I didn’t want him to think that I was following him. And I couldn’t send him letters with a New York postmark—so that’s when I stopped sending them. About a week after I got there, I saw him. I was walking down the street, and through the window of a pizza place, I saw him eating and talking with a girl. I stopped and watched them for a moment—and they looked so happy together. I guess they could have been just friends, but,” she shook her head, “I didn’t think so. When I had stared at them long enough, I continued on my way, feeling different. I didn’t go to New York thinking that I would find Jason and we could live out the plan that we had created so long before. I mean, after all, Miles was supposed to join me. But I guess after seeing Jason with that girl—I don’t know. It all changed.” She blew out a deep breath. “I kept going. I kept getting up everyday, doing my stupid job and coming home every night. Then repeating the process over and over. It wasn’t turning out to be the way I thought it would be. It wasn’t fun. And I realized that I couldn’t bring Miles out there—he would be as miserable as I was. So I came home. I figured I could live the same boring cycle with the same stupid job here, but at least I would have my family with me.”

  The waitress walked by and Amy ordered another beer for each of them. As the waitress left their table, Amy gulped down the rest of her drink. “You know, Miles was the one who sold back my Renaissance poetry book.”

  “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

  “He had offered to take my books with him when he was selling back his. I took him up on the offer. I still don’t know how he could have thought that book needed to be sold back—it wasn’t with the books that were being sold—but he took it with him anyway.”

  “Were you mad?”

  “I was more embarrassed. And sad. He knew I was upset, and he felt badly about it—but there wasn’t anything he could do.”

  Will sat forward in his chair. “Really? He could have gone back down there and told the bookstore people that he didn’t mean to sell it back. He could have offered to go through all the books they had gotten that day to find it. He could have offered to pay full price for it when he found it. He could have had it back to you less than two hours after you realized it was gone.”

  “I didn’t think about that. I guess he didn’t, either.”

  Will wanted to say That’s what I would have done, but he kept quiet.

  The waitress brought the next round of beers. When she walked away from the table, Will said, “Amy, you’ve only been out of school for a year. Maybe things haven’t gone the way you dreamed, but you’ve got plenty of time to work on those dreams. No one should be settling at the age of twenty-three.”

  She picked up her second beer and sipped it. Then she nodded. “You’re right.”

  Will looked around the bar. It was starting to fill with people and noise. He leaned toward Amy and grinned, knowing it was time to change the subject. “Hey, you want to know why April mentioned Jerry’s Famous Deli earlier tonight? It’s because she really did know who I was back then.”

  Amy sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

  “Remember that night we brought Billy’s books to your house and April commented about my truck? She recognized it from the UCLA sticker I have on the back. And then it clicked in her head—I was the boyfriend of a coworker at Jerry’s Famous Deli. I used to race down the streets of Westwood to pick up my girlfriend when her shifts ended. And no one there liked me because I drove too fast.” He leaned back and grinned again. “Well, that wasn’t the main reason. The main reason was that Jocelyn and I fought all the time. My driving just gave them another reason to hate me.”

  Amy squeezed her eyes closed. “April knew who you were? And she didn’t like you?”

  “She didn’t seem to care about me either way. Everyone else thought Jos should break up with me, but April figured we just had one of those bad relationships everyone needs to have so that we recognize when a good one comes along.”

  Amy sipped her beer. “That sister of mine. Full of surprises, I tell you. Sarcastic and brash on one hand, insightful and logical on the other hand. I’ll never understand her.” She took another sip of beer. “Wait. Jos? Is that the girl from Kim’s napkin? Didn’t she write something on there about a Jos?

  Will nodded. “Yep. Same person.”

  “Are you still dating?”

  Will shook his head. “That ended at the beginning of the school year.” He turned his beer around in circles on the table. “I never would have said it at the time, but now I see that we did have a pretty immature relationship. We never really trusted each other, and we never really figured out how to talk to each other.”

  Amy tilted her head to one side. “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed that about you. You seem like a pretty nice guy.”

  “I messed up a lot during my first two years of college. But after Jocelyn finally had it and broke up with me, I knew it was time to make some changes. I knew I needed to take school more seriously, and I needed to stop being such a jerk. I mean, I now know that Jocelyn and I weren’t right for each other, but I don’t think the old Will would have been right for anyone. I didn’t want to continue being that guy.”

  “So,” Amy said slowly, “Maybe you and Jocelyn just crossed paths at the wrong time. Maybe if you met today, you would be right for each other.”

  “I don’t think so. Because I wouldn’t have decided to grow up if I hadn’t known her. Like April said, I needed that bad relationship to figure out what I wanted out of a good one.”

  “Sounds like a lesson that Lizzie should have learned with Billy.” Amy sighed. “You and April. You’re both something else.” She smiled. Then giggled.

  The sound of her laugh caught Will off guard. He looked at the two full beers sitting in front of him and the two empty glasses in front of Amy.

  “Did you eat dinner?” he asked.

  “No. Miles was supposed to bring Thai food over, but I guess he took it with him when he left. Then I was too upset to eat.” She thought a moment. “Come to think of it, I didn’t eat lunch, either. After you left, I fell asleep. Then April woke me up with the rest of Eva’s story, and then Miles came over, and then you know the rest.”

  Will pulled out his cell phone and looked at the time. “We should probably get you home. Or get you something to eat.”

  Amy stood up. “I’m fine,” she said. “In fact, I feel better than I have in a long time. Sort of like a weight has been lifted. Which is strange, since I just found out my real grandfather died in a fire because my real grandmother was so selfish.” She shook her head as though trying to rid herself of those thoughts and then smiled. “Let’s not be so serious the rest of the night. We’ve had too much seriousness already. Let’s go dance.” She turned and moved through the crowd toward the small dance floor in the back of the bar.

  Will watched her go. How quickly her mood had shifted. He hadn’t expected that. He grabbed his two beers and picked his way through the thickening crowd toward Amy. At the edge of the dance floor was a line of tall tables and clusters of bar stools. He set his drinks down on one of the tables and leaned against a stool.

  He
spotted her among the other dancers, moving with the beat of the music. When she spotted him, she waved him over. He hesitated, but then he squeezed through the mass of flailing arms and bobbing heads.

  “Will,” she shouted, touching his shoulder when he neared her, “this is my friend Becky from high school.” She nodded at the tall brunette girl dancing next to her. “We haven’t seen each other in forever. Can you believe that we’re both here, right now?”

  Will nodded at Becky and smiled at Amy. “How are you feeling?” he asked, leaning toward her and shouting over the music.

  “Good. Really good,” she answered. “Come on. Dance with us.”

  “I think we ought to head out.”

  “I’m not ready to go. Me and Becky need to catch up.”

  “Okay. I’ll be waiting over there.” He pointed to the tables. Amy nodded and turned back to Becky. Will maneuvered through the crowd. Taking a seat on a stool, he sipped his beer and watched as a man approached Amy. She smiled and shook her head, and the guy walked away. Will checked his cell phone for the time again. It wasn’t that late, yet the inhibitions of bar patrons were fading fast.

  One song ended and the next begun. Two guys appeared next to Becky and Amy, trying to get the girls’ attention. The one nearest Amy took a hold of her hand and spun her around once. She smiled, shook her head, and turned her back. Will grinned. He set his beer down and made his way onto the dance floor.

  “Hey, look who’s here,” Amy called over the music as he neared her.

  He smiled, finding the rhythm of the music and moving with it. “Look at you, breaking hearts all over the place.”

  Amy laughed. “Oh, they’ll find some other attention-starved girl in a couple minutes. I may be mad at Miles, but I’m not going to be stupid.”

  Amy forgot about Becky and turned toward Will. She had wondered if he was one of those guys who didn’t dance or couldn’t dance. What was it that Lizzie had said? She hated when boys danced as though they didn’t hear the music? Amy had always felt the same way.