Page 31 of My Unfinished Heart

July 27th is a Monday.

I’m in the snack food aisle of HEB at the intersection of Lake Austin and Exposition. I have a hand basket, and Westley Miles is pushing a half-filled cart. I’m passing through on my way to dairy, and he’s setting up camp in front of the potato chips. His chin-length hair is pulled back in a small ponytail, and he’s dressed a lot like I am, in utilitarian shorts and a t-shirt I recognize. It’s a faded Texas Rangers shirt. Blue with the red team logo on the front. The tattoos are still a total trip to see on him. I wonder what his mom thinks about them.

“I wondered where you went,” he says. “Just think, all I had to do was go grab some groceries, and here you are.”

I glare at him without really meaning to. “Yeah, I'm here almost all the time. I'm surprised we haven’t run into each other before now.”

“How's it going?” he asks, not engaging in my sarcasm.

Still wary of him and his small talk, I answer with, “Fine.”

“Are you staying at your old house?”

I laugh. Well, scoff might be a better word. “No. I got a new place.”

He looks at me a moment, sizing me up like he’s thinking something over. “The Rangers are playing the Padres tonight. You free? We could watch the game at Abel’s.”

I hesitate a lot less than I should. “Yeah. I'll meet you there.”

“First pitch is at seven.”

“See you then.” With that, I leave him by the chips, already forgetting what I needed from dairy.

Cain & Abel’s is a sports bar across the street from the University of Texas with several wide-screen TVs showing the various events of the day. While we had fake IDs senior year, we never tried getting in here, preferring to hang out in people’s dens. Usually West’s because his mom worked nights.

He’s already sitting at the bar with a beer. I take the empty stool next to him. “Been here awhile?”

“No. You?” he asks with a grin before looking up at the TV. “Sorry about the other day,” he adds.

The other day almost two months ago? “Yeah. Me too.”

Once I get my drink, we find a table by the back wall where we have a decent view of a screen with the Rangers game.

“So where are you staying?”

“A house on Mountain View.”

“I’m over off West Lynn. Your brother’s living with you?”

“It's just me for now. But if he wears out his welcome where he is, I have a room for him.”

“Is he the reason you're staying?”

I sigh. The sooner I sit through his inquisition and answer all his questions, the sooner he and I can both move on—whatever that looks like. I put my beer down and meet his curious eyes. “More or less. He has one more year of high school.”

“I guess since you bought a house in Tarrytown you made out okay in the will. Or did you get a job?”

What kind of question is that? I grind my teeth and glance at the door. “Both.”

“Where are you working? Doing what?”

“ACC. Teaching.” ACC is the community college where I’m currently covering someone on maternity leave for a summer course. It’s not much of a job, but it’s technically employment.

“Oh, here we go…” He leans back in his chair with his drink in hand. “Now you have to tell me. You have to have at least a master’s to teach college. Give it up already. What is it? Poli-Sci? International diplomacy? What?”

“Art History,” I say, ready for him to laugh.

But he surprises me. Which isn’t really that surprising. He was a classic jock, but he still used to be my biggest fan. I was his, too. He nods, looking almost proud. “Good. Good for you.”