Diane was asking Kevin something about a client presentation. Jake or Jason was on his phone. The bar was loud and warm and slightly too bright, the way bars always were. And Clare was sitting in a place she didn't have to be sitting, talking to people she could have talked to from 6 ft to his left. He turned his head.
She was already looking at him. not the half attention she'd been giving the table. Actually looking at him the way she did in project meetings when they were working through a problem and everything else went quiet. You're overthinking it. She said I'm not thinking anything. You're thinking something.
You've got the face. I don't. He stopped. What face? The one that says this is complicated and I should probably run.
She held his gaze. Am I what? Going to run? He didn't answer right away. There was a version of this conversation where he made a joke, where he deflected back into safe territory, back into the easy warmth of co-workers at a bar, back into the version of tonight that meant nothing and required nothing.
He'd had that version of the conversation a 100 times with himself mostly. He was very good at it. I don't know, he said instead it wasn't what she'd expected. He could tell by the small change in her expression, not disappointment, but something closer to surprise, like she'd prepared for the deflection, and the honesty had caught her offg guard. "Okay," she said.
"Okay, yeah," she turned back to the table. "That's more honest than I usually get from you. I'll take it." He stared at the back of her head for a moment, "Claire H, why didn't you take the seat?" She was quiet for a moment.
The table conversation moved around them like water around two stones because she said and she said it toward Marcus toward the table toward the middle distance. Sometimes the thing you actually want and the thing that's available are two completely different things. She didn't look at him when she said it. She didn't have to. An hour later, Ethan was still there.
He'd checked his phone once habit not anxiety and seen a text from Mrs. Delgato that said Lily is asleep. Mija had three stories tonight. Go have fun. He'd put his phone back in his pocket and not checked it again.
The group had thinned a little. Kevin had left at 9:00 to catch his train. One of the Jake or Jasons had someone texting him with increasing urgency and eventually excused himself. Marcus was at the bar arguing cheerfully with the bartender about the Rocky's bullpen, which left Ethan and Clare and Diane at one end of the table. The conversation slower now and more honest the way conversations when the hour gets late and the crowd thins in the performance of Sopels is lying falls away.
Diane was talking about her mother who'd moved to Phoenix 2 years ago and called every Sunday and Diane sometimes didn't pick up because she felt guilty that she had things to do and then felt guiltier for the not picking up. It was the kind of thing people only said out loud when they were tired and slightly warm from alcohol and in the company of people they trusted. You shouldn't feel guilty. Clare said she knows you love her. Guilt is just love without a direction to go.