Page 41 of The Now in Forever

M y grandma is in surgery. It feels like she’s already been there for hours, but the clock says it’s only been twenty minutes. I keep checking and rechecking my phone. Waiting to hear from Ed. Even checking my email.

The Drew Barrymore Show is playing softly on the little television hanging from the ceiling.

Drew is sitting in a beige chair, wearing suede red boots and a houndstooth dress, interviewing Keanu Reeves. It must be a rerun. He looks straight out of John Wick . Drew shakes her head. “I’m a lover.”

The camera cuts to Keanu. “No, no. Because if you’re a lover, you gotta to be a fighter.”

“How so?” Drew asks, biting her nail, her fingers covered in jewelry.

“Because if you don’t fight for your love, what kind of love do you have?”

And it hits me like a hair getting yanked out at the root.

Ed has never fought for me. Not when he was supposed to meet me ten years ago.

Certainly not at the book signing when he didn’t even recognize me.

Not when he saw me in the coffee shop in LA.

Not when I suggested we not speak. And not when I walked away last night.

Although he did come back, now he’s gone again.

Probably having one of those meetings that would “keep.”

My phone trills in my hand. It’s a number I don’t recognize. Could it be Ed?

“Hello,” I answer, my neck tense.

“Hello, is this Hattie Stevens?”

“Yes?” I say, not able to help the question in my voice.

“Hey, this is Mandy Blackwell. We met at the party, and you sent your book last night.”

I turn off Drew , stunned.

“I hope you don’t mind me calling. I was just so excited. I love this book! And romantic speculative fiction is hot, hot, hot right now! Literally, I couldn’t put it down. I was so invested.”

Flutters sparkle up my spine. My heart fills like a child’s party balloon. She likes it. She really likes it.

“June is just a spitfire, and the whole triangle between Sam and Kurt is riveting. But I have to say, I’m Team Sam. The ending is all wrong.”

The party balloon pops.

“June can’t choose the safe, boring guy. She has to choose the man in the book. He gives her the tingles. This is a romance novel. We need her to end up with Sam. It’s not a Happily Ever After if it’s not with the man she really loves.”

“Well, but she loves them both.”

“Does she, though?”

There is a beat of silence, and then Mandy goes on. “She may in her head, but her heart belongs to one of them, and it ain’t Mr. Boring.”

She’s right.

“It’s your book, sweetie. If you want it to end this way, that’s up to you. But if you want her to choose Mr. Boring, we need more extensive rewrites.”

“No, you’re right. She’s in love with the man in the book.”

I can practically hear Mandy’s smile over the phone. We talk for another half hour on ideas of how that ending could work. She’s going to send me her notes, and I’ll start on the revisions.

When we end the call, I’m both energized and exhausted.

I need coffee, but not the hospital kind.

I want an actual Starbucks latte, with my name scrawled on the side and extra foam.

I check in with the nurse, and they say there’s still a couple of hours until Grandma will be back in the room.

I make my way through the lobby and am about to head through the sliding doors, when a man stands in my way.

I look up into a chiseled face and fiery green eyes.

“Ed! Where did you go?”

“Hattie, I needed to talk to?—”

I hold up my hand. “I get it. A meeting. I need some coffee.” I can’t believe he took a meeting, now, at the hospital.Although I did just talk to an agent. Holy shit. Did I really just talk to an agent?

“Wait, Hattie.”

I would like some time to focus on the bookstore?and on editing this book without constantly thinking about Ed.

I’m so tired.

“I’m going to get a Starbucks across the street. You’re welcome to come.”

He nods. We order our drinks and take them to a small table by the window. We sit in silence. It’s not uncomfortable, per se, but it doesn’t feel cozy either.

“It wasn’t a meeting. My mom texted.”

“Oh.” My stomach drops. I’m such a dick. Why do I always assume the worst? “That’s cool.”

He sighs. “Yeah. I had to call her. She just needs money. Same old, same old. When I told her I wasn’t sure, she went off on me. Ungrateful. You’d be nothing without me. Same old shit.”

I reach across the table, placing my hand on his forearm. “I’m so sorry.”

He places his hand over mine, and my heart races. The truth of Mandy’s words ring through me. My heart belongs to Ed.

Even if we can never make it work, I love this man.

“Hattie, I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have blocked your number. It was just too hard not to text you. And I shouldn’t have let you walk away. Once I got Nathan to tell me where you were staying, I thought about holding a boom box up to your window. But I wasn’t sure which room you were in.”

I laugh. “I’m sure the staff would’ve loved that.”

“I’m sorry I fucked up.”

I purse my lips. “We. We fucked it up.” My heart beats faster, but I still feel hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re moving?”

“When? I wasn’t supposed to text you. I didn’t want to lead with that after not seeing you for a month. When were you going to tell me about the bookstore?”

“I tried calling. And I’m the one who came to visit you. I’m always?—”

“We’re going in circles.” He sighs. “When you came to LA, I was excited to see you. But—all cards on the table—I’m underwater on the screenwriting stuff.

Things change and move so quickly. With writing, I much more a mull things over for a couple weeks kind of guy.

But this movie stuff is lightning speed.

I’m struggling to keep up. Maybe it’s just the way this director works, but it’s terrifying.

I’m scared I’m going to fail, in a massive, public way, and that it won’t only affect my future career adapting my books but my actual writing career as well.

This is all I have. I’m a gutter punk skateboard kid who loves to make up stories.

I have no other skills. I can’t fuck this up.

I was excited to see you but also surprised and overwhelmed.

If I could go back, I would swoop you up in my arms the moment I saw you in the coffee shop. And I wouldn’t have agreed to not talking for a month.”

“That was stupid of me.”

“I get it, though. I understand not wanting to wait for me to text. I remember you had that boyfriend in high school…”

I nod.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get your bookstore.”

There’s more sadness in my heart than joy, but I smile anyway. “It’s not mine. ”

He lets out a long breath. “I wish we would’ve talked about all this more.”

I check the time. “I should get back to my grandma. Maybe we can talk more after her surgery?”

He frowns. “I have to head back. My flight to LA leaves tonight.”

“Tonight?” My shoulders slump. If I’d known how little time we had, I would’ve talked in the car, but I was so worried about Grandma, I wouldn’t have been able to focus. “How will you get back?”

He shrugs as we both stand from the table. “I can catch a Greyhound or a train.”

Tears prickle the back of my eyes. “Is this goodbye for good, then?”

He wraps me in a tight hug, his lips soft on my ear, his breath hot. “I hope not.”

I take my latte back to my grandma’s room and wait. Ed said he’d call later.

After another hour, the nurses bring Grandma back. She’s groggy from surgery and sleeps through the night. Around seven in the morning, she wakes up and wants some food.

After she’s had some eggs and toast, she says, “So, what have I missed?”

I shrug, but my face crumples.

“Hattie Bear, what is going on?”

“I’m in love, but I don’t know if he feels the same way.”

“Have you told him how you feel?”

I shake my head. I tell her about Ed. The whole story, from when we met until now, leaving out all the saucy bits.

She listens intently, nodding and humming, her brows furrowed. “Have you noticed how many times you are the one to walk away?”

“What?”

“I’m not saying he’s not a confusing man. He absolutely needs to explain himself if he wants to continue the relationship. But why do you keep walking away?”

“How am I walking away?”

“Suggesting you two don’t talk.”

“I called him, and he never answered.”

“Because you told him you didn’t want to talk. He blocked your number so he wouldn’t text you. He must have wanted to reach out to you pretty bad if he had to block your number. Then you literally walked away at the party.”

I sigh. “But he could’ve come after me.”

There is a beat of silence. Her words sink in. He wanted to talk to me, but he was respecting my wishes. My stupid, save face, not what I actually wanted at all wishes. He was probably giving me the space he thought I wanted by walking away. And he did come find me in the morning.

Grandma puts her hand on my arm. “I think when you go home today, you should call and talk to him.”

“Go home?” The pain medication must be making her foggy, if she really thinks I’m going to leave her alone. “I’m not even sure where home is. That’s beside the point. I’m not leaving until you’re better.”

“That’s sweet. But no.”

I shake my head. “I'm staying to take care of you.”

“No.” Her mouth is a stern frown that I recognize from when I was a kid and got into her sewing stuff without asking. “Absolutely not.”

“Grandma, it’s already done.”

“Well, undo it. You’re not invited.”

I let out a huff of air. “How are you going to manage the farmhouse on your own?”

“I won’t be on my own.”

“What?”

“Uncle Rob is coming.”

“Uncle Rob.”

“He’s going to get me on my feet then help me list the house.” She nods. “I’m moving to Hermosa Beach. It will be warm and wonderful. ”

Her smile is so bright, my heart fills. As much as I love Grandma, I really didn’t want to move to New Haven and work at the middle school. “Grandma, that’s great!”

“You are welcome to visit anytime.”