Erin settled things with Toby, and he was heartbroken. He accused both Erin and me of being selfish whores who only used guys for our own pleasure. We didn't argue.
Charlie monitored my drinking, because it was a drinking night. I realized I could no longer mope around and get drunk off expensive Cabernet and complain about my problems as a teenager. I was an adult, now. I could get drunk with my man, and annoy each other to death by being clingy as can be.
I hadn't stayed at my own house the entire time I was back, but that was okay.
...
We moved.
I got a job in Dallas with a book company, and Charlie quit teaching and became an engineer. We lived in a condo-like apartment, with a guest room. My house back home was no longer ours, because we sold it. Everything that belonged to my parents was distributed evenly between the four of us.
It was perfect.
We had our usual days, showers, breakfast, coffee, work, sometimes lunch, we'd come back and have dinner, talk, sex, sleep, and so on. But the extra days, the cold days or the days we'd both stay in if one of us was sick, we'd have deep talks of our cliche undying love, and we'd speak like we were falling in love for the first time. Ridiculous, yes, but the sex that came after was always the best.
One day, about seven years after we'd lived together, I was home for the day, it was around the holidays but the sun rose to capture the chill in the air and it balanced out. There was a knock at my door.
I answered it, seeing a boy in his tweens with a large backpack standing in front of me. He looked terrifyingly familiar. "Hi, can I help you?" I asked him, and his beautiful blue eyes looked at a sheet of paper in his hand.
"Yeah, are you-" He read the paper with squinted eyes. "Diana Apollo?"
I stared at his face. Who's face is that? "Yes." I answered, expecting him to say something after that, but he just stared at me. He stared so long that I shifted on my feet, looked behind him to see how he'd come. Finally the silence was too much as he wouldn't take his eyes from my face. "Do you mind me asking who you are?"
"I'm Julian." He said, holding out his hand to me. "Julian Carl."
And I was close to fainting.
At a loss for words, I just stared back at him, leaned forward a bit to look at his face, and yes, he for sure was Andy Carl's son. Then I realized his hand was still out, so I took it, without words.
We stared at each other for a while, then finally I looked behind him and said, "Who brought you here?"
"I took a cab." He said, and the breeze swirled the leaves behind him so I widened my door.
"You can come inside, it's too cold out here to be standing."
He came in, looking around carefully, but then felt he at me.
And why had he come in the first place? Why on Earth did Andy let him come here alone?
We walked to the living room, then I stopped. "So you don't have anyone waiting outside for you?"
"No," He said, and then he must've realized he was staring because he flushed and looked down at his paper. "So you knew... my dad," He began slowly, still looking down at the paper and then looking up at me as he sat on the couch. I sat on the chair across from him.
"Your father is...?" I knew who his father was. At least my heart did, but my mind did not want to comprehend what was going on. Then I wondered desperately what would Charlie think of this?
"Andy- Andy Carl." He said, straightened up and for a moment he reminded me of Andy in the way he held himself. Only, there was a timidness in Julian's person that brought out a sympathy in me. I bet it was hard to be shy and someone's so important son.
I breathed. "Yes, I did."
He looked away from my eyes and looked down at his paper as if reading off of it. "Do you know him from high school?"
"No, we actually met at a business convention."
He looked down again, and by then I had realized he had written down questions to ask me. "Did you date my father?"
I couldn't believe Andy's son was in my house. "I- guess I did." I did.
He looked down at his paper again, and soon he sighed and crumbled it up. "I wrote down questions I wanted to ask you but now I have different ones."
I gave him a nod.
"Did you love my dad?"
The question was so straightforward, so bold, so very curious. I could only ask back, "Julian, please don't take this the wrong way, but why are you here?"
He looked down for a moment, then turned to get something from his backpack and took out a shoe box. He set the box on the coffee table in between us and opened it, revealing the loads of pictures and tickets and letters that were shared between Andy and I. I picked up a picture, I was shaking, and saw Andy's figure in dark, holding the hand a of a girl who was running, they were both running, huge smiles on their faces, running between cars it seemed, and I almost heard his laughter again as I stared at that picture. I remembered escaping a meeting with him. I remembered making cupcakes with him that same day. We had sprinted to my jeep that night and escaped to his house.
Looking at another picture, it was as if I was shoved back in time, and my heart beat quickened mercilessly as I looked at my own figure being held in Andy's arms behind a car, we were kissing at the airport. I remembered like it was yesterday, after I told him I cheated, and he said that he loved me more than anything.
Another one was what brought the pang to my chest. It was taken in front of my house, he had his arms tight around me, his face buried in my hair, and I hid myself in his chest. We looked miserable. That was the day we said goodbye. The last time I spoke to Andy.
It made sense, then. All the other pictures in the box were taken from photographers, and I recalled Andy telling me that it was always easy to buy them off if there were only a few, but when there were so many photographers at once, it was already shared with the world. He had bought all those pictures so that I wouldn't have to deal with photographers, and the media.
I looked back up at Julian. "Ever since I can remember he's kept these locked up in a drawer at his desk." He said as I took a napkin from the box, a napkin that he and I played hangman on while we were waiting at a restaurant one day. I remember writing You're an idiot. And he had guessed it right. He always laughed when I told him that, because he knew it meant I loved him, as did Charlie. "He left the key out a couple days ago while he was in Spain and I opened it. I mean, I guess I always knew about you because Uncle Toby and him got in a fight one day about a girl named Diana."
I sighed. "What did he say?"
"Uncle Toby was just being really mean, and Dad was getting mad and telling him not to talk about you like that. He doesn't usually get mad."
I said nothing for a while.
"I asked after that who Diana was, and he just said, 'a girl that I used to be close with, don't talk about her in front of your mom.' And a few years ago I was hiding in his office because I broke something, and he came in. He didn't see me, but he unlocked the drawer and put an envelope in there. When he got up I went to see what it was and it was a letter to you, asking how you were and stuff. He never sent it."
I sat there, hearing this news and feeling... well I was unsure what I was feeling. Shock- joy- confusion. Joy from the fact that Andy still hasn't stopped thinking about me. After so many years he kept his promise that he'd always love me.
I kind of kept mine, too... I'd always love Andy, and I really hoped he knew that.
"So," I began slowly, "Why did you come, then?"
"I wanted to meet the person my dad seems to love a lot."
"Doesn't he love your mother?"
"Oh, yes! He'd do anything for her, they're in love, but they don't have a lot of time for each other. They're both always busy, and when he's not travelling, she's travelling. He loves her, but I know he loves you, too."
There was an odd pride in me at the thought of Andy finding another love because of me. A pride as I sat in front of this handsome kid, and realized he probably wouldn't be alive if I hadn't left his father. Of course, a selfish part of me mourned Andy's separate love, and the fact that I was no longer the only one he'd ever love, but that was the small selfish part of me. I was glad he wasn't living in misery. "How did you convince your dad to let you come here?" I asked in utter confusion.
He looked down, an earnest flush came to his face and I waited for him to answer me. "I didn't."
I said nothing, urging him to expand.
"I didn't ask."
I sighed deeply, "Julian-" I almost groaned as if I knew the kid. I felt I knew him already, if I was honest.
"He would've said no right away, he would've been angry at me for breaking into his stuff!"
I chuckled, "Well maybe that means you're not supposed to break into his stuff."
The kid stared at me again, "I just had to meet you."
"How did you know where I live in the first place?" I asked in curiosity.
"It was really hard. All I had was your name, but I found someone who worked for my dad once and asked him to look up all the Dianas from dad's hometown. Then I found the one who looked closest to the pictures."
He and I were quiet for a while, and then I sat and realized this boy was travelling around from place to place, who knew how much he'd eaten? "Are you hungry?" I asked him.
He shyly nodded, he was probably starving. Standing, I got up and walked to my kitchen, having him follow. "What do you like?"
"Everything."
I smiled, "Like your father,"
Then simultaneously, he and I said: "Except pickles."
The boy laughed, and I did, too. "Do you like pickles?" I asked.
"I love em."
I made him a sandwich with the best stuff I could find, and I got him some chips. He liked orange juice, too. Like Andy, but like everybody else. Besides me, of course. While he was eating all his food, I got out some fruit for him, and he ate everything. He was probably so hungry.
While he was eating, I called Charlie.
"What do you want," he answered in false irritation.
I moved to a separate room when speaking, "When are you coming home?"
His tone turned serious after reading mine, but I wasn't too serious. "The usual time- why what's wrong?" He asked quickly.
I sighed, "You're not gonna believe this, but guess who's sitting in our kitchen, eating a sandwich."
Charlie was silent, expecting me to say right away, but in impatience, he said, "What the hell, Diana, who?"
"Julian Carl."
He thought. "Julian- Julian Carl, who the fuck is that?" He asked in confusion.
He was making this so difficult. "Think, dumby, think." I groaned.
So much silence, and I looked over to see how he was doing, and he asked politely if he could look at our books, and I told him to help himself.
"Carl?" Charlie said quietly, then in a gasp, "No," A beat of silence. "He's not..."
"Andy's son,"
"Andy Carl's son is at our house with you right now?" He couldn't believe it. "What the hell does he want?"
I sighed, "Nothing, just to meet me."
"You're bullshitting. Baby, you gotta be bullshitting me. This is a joke, right?"
"It's not." I said flatly.
He breathed deeply on the other end, overwhelmed at this name he hadn't heard in so long, this name that's always made him so uneasy, or so irritated. Each time there was something about Andy on the tv, or his wife, or on magazines, Charlie immediately turned it off, or discarded it. "Oh my god." He said quietly. "What are you gonna do? Why the fuck would Andy Carl let him go over there alone-" Charlie stopped again, "He's not there is he? Andy Carl?"
"No, just his son. Andy doesn't know."
"So the kid just picked up and left??"
"Yeah,"
"Well, Diana, his parents are probably freaking out looking for him."
Oh my god, I didn't think about that.
"Does... that doesn't mean...-"
"Yes, baby, you're gonna have to make the kid call one of his parents to let them know where he is."
Oh my god. My heartbeat quickened. Oh god- I would possibly have to talk to Andy Carl after what? Twelve years? I had no idea how this would be, all I ever saw of that man now was his stern and business-like expressions on the media; I had no idea how he'd treat me. I had no idea how I could act if I had to talk to him, I was overwhelmed with emotion.
"Are you okay?" Charlie asked softly.
"Yes." I breathed out quickly, "Yes, I'm okay." I was freaking out. "I'll let you go, then."
He sighed. "I'll see you at home, I love you, Diana." He said sweetly, and my heart fluttered again, the usual, at the thought of him coming home to me.
"I love you, too, Charlie."
And we hung up.
Walking over to the kid, I saw him holding one of my big books, The Stand by Stephen King. "You like reading?"
The kid nodded, shyly closing the book. "Me too."
"I've never read this one before." He said, looking it over.
I released a sigh, "Julian, I think you need to call your mother, and tell her your here." I go too nervous to say Andy.
The kid shook his head, "No, no, mom is out of the question, she'd be so upset. Or at least I know dad would because I even mentioned you to mom, I can't call her."
"Well, buddy you gotta call someone."
"I'll call dad." He said reluctantly. "He's going to be very angry, but I'll come clean to him."
This Julian was a good boy, aside from the sneaking away to meet the mysterious ex.
Julian pulled out his phone, and I asked, "Do you want me to get you anything else to eat? I have some ice cream in the freezer."
He shied again, but quietly said, "I like ice cream."
And I brought him out some options, he chose cookies n' cream. He said it was his favorite, I told him it was mine, too. Our similarities were amusing to the two of us.
Julian took a deep breath when calling the contact on his phone, Dad. He put it on speaker so he could clutch his backpack close. The poor boy was scared.
"Hi, you're calling for Andy Carl- wait, Julian, is that you-?" A voice that probably belonged to his PA said, but was interrupted by a voice that sent shivers all through me. Oh how it's been quite a while.
"Is that him, give me the phone," Andy demanded, and next thing I knew he was on the phone with his son- who was sitting at my house. "Julian, good god, where are you? Are you okay?" He said worriedly.
I couldn't suppress a smile. I always knew Andy would be a good father, but hearing it up close left a flush to my cheeks, and I couldn't help but admire him.
"I- I-" The boy stopped himself, and took a deep breath, as if trying to sound bold for his father. "I'm fine."
"Well where the hell are you, if you're fine?" Andy's voice sounded... angry. And I could tell, since he didn't usually get angry that Julian was getting sad.
"Dallas." Julian said quietly.
Andy was quiet for a minute, "Did I hear you correctly?"
"Yes, sir."
"Dallas Texas?"
"Yes."
"Why on earth are you in Dallas?" Andy asked in utter confusion.
Julian was quiet.
"Answer me, son." Andy said calmly. That sounded like the Andy I knew.
"You- you left the drawer in your office unlocked." Julian suddenly said.
Andy was silent, and the boy hugged his things closer. "Julian." Andy started slowly, "Please tell me why you're in Dallas."
Something in Andy seem to have clicked, and I had no doubt he probably knew I lived in Dallas. Toby knew, because he still spoke to Connor and Cole. And there were also the pictures and letters and other things that came from Andy's drawer, which seemed to have sparked a shock in the man.
Julian hesitated.
"I won't ask again." Andy said.
"I met- I'm at- ugh, I had to meet Diana Apollo so I came to her house."
Oh god was Andy silent.
Then, "Did you say Diana?" Oh how long it's been since I heard that man say my name.
"Yes, sir." Poor Julian was shaking.
"Diana Apollo?" He spoke my name as if it was too rare to be spoken, a layer of shock covered any other feeling to detect from his voice.
"Yes, sir."
"Are-" Andy was quiet for a short moment. "Are you there right now???"
"Yes."
"At her house," He questioned again in disbelief, and then I realized I was shaking, too.
"Yes."
"Oh my god. Why are you at her house? Had she any idea you were going over there?"
"No, sir. She had no idea."
"Julian, you can't just do that. You can't just barge into people's lives like that, what are you doing even knowing who she is anyway, why didn't you come to me?"
"I did, but every time I brought her up, you would tell me not to mention her again."
Andy took a deep breath. "So- so she's there right now? You're inside her house and she's there?" He asked as if he couldn't believe the situation. I couldn't believe it, either.
"Yes, sir, she is. She's really nice."
"I'm sure she is." Andy breathed out quietly. "Can- can I speak with her?"
I backed up a step in shock, as if I was flinching. It was like slow motion when the young boy turned and handed me the phone, saying that his father would like to speak with me, as if I hadn't heard his entire conversation.
I shakily took the phone, took it off speaker and quietly told Julian he could eat the ice cream where he was. He smiled at me- and I almost melted at the similarity. I smiled back, and witnessed him blush.
Bringing the phone to my ear, I walked into the dining room. Shaking, my god, I was so freaked out- so overwhelmed. "Hello?" I said, and I heard on the other end as he sucked in a breath.
Quietly, it was so quiet, when Andy replied, "Diana?" And my heart quickened at the familiar sound of voice, but there was a change. Something of a certain boldness in his voice, as if... As if he spoke to me like I wasn't his friend anymore. There was no trace of affection in is plain tone, and it made my heart ache after so many years.
"Andy." I said back.