"Do you think he'll be open to talking about her?"
I haven't confided in Zoe since I left her apartment the morning that I thought Maisy was carrying Dane's son. It's not because I don't trust her with the complicated details of Dane's past. I don't want to cloud our friendship with all of the uncertainty I'm feeling.
I asked Zoe to meet me for coffee this morning so I could feel normal again, or at the very least, as normal as my life can be right now. I want to hear about her son, her job and I'm even hoping that she'll have a story or two to tell me about the people who live in her building. No one can gossip about strangers the way Zoe can. It's an escape from reality that I desperately need at this moment.
"I think he will be," I finally answer after taking a long sip of my coffee. "He told me he wants to talk about her."
"Get all the answers you need now, Bridge." She licks a drop of cream from below her lip after taking a drink. "Don't get closer to him until you know everything you need to about his ex-girlfriend and her family."
I stare across the table at her, knowing that it's the voice of experience talking to me. Zoe may not have faced the exact same scenario as I am when she first met Beck, but I sense she made certain that every skeleton in his closest was cleared out before she gave her heart to him.
Chapter 12
"I've been meaning to ask you something." I swallow hard past the lump in my throat. "It's about the night of the fire."
He pulls in a sharp breath. "The fire in Queens?"
I nod. "How are the boys that were in the fire?"
His gaze travels past my face towards the open kitchen of the small bistro we're sitting in. "They're both still in serious condition. I've been back to visit them at the hospital a few times."
I'm not surprised by that. I could tell, when he confessed that he'd been at the fire, that he was shaken to his core by the injuries the boys had sustained. I'd stopped at the bodega near my apartment one day when I'd noticed the newspaper's headline about the two boys along with a picture of their smiling faces. They'd both suffered smoke inhalation and burns to their hands and torsos. Dane was credited for helping to save them. I wasn't surprised in the least that he didn't mention the fact that he had raced into the house, along with several other neighbors, to carry the boys to safety.
"I hope they pull through." There aren't words that can properly convey what I'm feeling. I may not know the two youngsters, but any compassionate person would want them to recover so they can live the lives they're meant to.
A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "They're fighters. They've got a lot of support around them. The prognosis looks good."
"I'm glad," I say looking around the bustling eatery. Dane had asked me to meet him here because he wanted to grab lunch before he came over to my place. He already had ordered for us both by the time I arrived and now as I sip the lemonade the waiter brought for me, I realize that I don't have the small card that has Cleo's hospital room number written on it. It's still tucked deep within the pocket of the jeans that I tossed onto a chair yesterday after Dane left.
"Are you looking for someone?" he asks casually. "You seem nervous, Bridget."
I am. I didn't come here to eat half of the club sandwich he ordered for us to share. My stomach is doing so many flip flops at this point that I doubt I'll even be able to finish my lemonade. I need to ask him why he was at the house he shared with Maisy the night of the fire. It shouldn't be this difficult to form the question, but for some reason I feel as though I'm on the edge of a cliff that I don't want to jump off of.
"I'm not looking for anyone." I drop my hands into my lap. "I was hoping we could talk about your house in Queens."
"What about it?" He brings the glass of beer he ordered to his lips. He takes a large swallow while he watches me over the rim.
"Why were you there?"
His tongue darts over his lips to catch the last traces of the amber liquid. "I met a real estate broker there. I'm selling the place."
I'm relieved. It's the last tie that he has to Maisy and once it's sold it means he can move forward and find himself a new place. I skim my eyes over his face. I can see the disappointment that is there, hovering beneath the thin grin that covers his mouth. "I know that can't be easy. I sense that house meant a lot to you."
He blows out a puff of air between his lips. "I thought I'd live there my entire life. I had big plans for the place."
I don't want to let any jealousy seep into my response but I know, without any question, that part of those big plans involved his future with Maisy. She's not a fixture in his life now, and as soon as the house is sold, she'll be a memory that in time will slip from the forefront of his mind to a distant corner. "I'm sorry that you had to let it go."
He motions for the waiter to place the plate with the sandwich and a mountain of fries between us on the table. He thanks him quietly before he turns his attention back to me.
"It's just a house," he says casually although I see a hint of sadness in his eyes when he looks at me. "There are a lot of other houses."
I nod as I take a piece of the sandwich he offers me. "I guess this means Maisy found a new place to live."
His eyes close briefly as his shoulders tense. "Maisy is moving to the city. She's actually going to live with my mom for a while."
I feel like time stalls as the sandwich falls from my hand and bounces against the edge of the plate before it tumbles to the floor.
Chapter 13
There's an old saying about killing two birds with one stone. Talking about Dane's mom was the next thing on my conversation bucket list. I thought I'd clear the Maisy plate before I dove into the subject of Dane's mom's ongoing friendship with his ex and her family. Little did I know that Maisy and Anja are besties who are now going to be roommates too.
"Bridget," he says my name so softly that I have to strain to hear it. "Bridget, please don't get upset."
"I'm not upset," I toss back honestly. "I'm surprised."
"You're surprised?" he jokes. "Imagine how I feel."
I can't. I have no grasp on how anything that relates to Maisy makes him feel. I've seen brief flashes of anger and frustration when he's talked about her, but it's never gone beyond that. I've always assumed that he regrets parts of his relationship with her and wants her to become someone he once knew instead of someone who is still an integral part of his life.
"They must be close." I put my hand on the edge of the table. "Vanessa said they were at the hospital together too."
"My mom loves Maisy more than I ever did." He glances at me. "She assumed we'd marry and have kids. She's not letting go of that dream."
It explains a lot. I've wondered why I haven't met Dane's mom yet. It's not that I believe that we're at a stage in our relationship where that should be happening. The only reason he met my parents was because of circumstance. They were around a lot after the accident, and so it was inevitable that they'd get to know Dane.
It's different with Anja. She's based in Boston. Dane has told me that more than once. He's also mentioned that she comes to New York to visit him. "Did your mom stay with you and Maisy when she'd come to New York?"