Page 13 of Always

“With the profits from that, I bought two more computers and I sold them to two more guys I knew. By the third round, I had people’s dads asking me for computers, and then after that I had businesses calling me. The businesses were asking if I could complete orders of twenty or thirty computers at a time, and I just kept saying yes, even though I was doing all this out of my dorm room, and I had no idea when I agreed where I would get all the parts or the hours to assemble them all.

“Anyway,” he said with a laugh, “what I learned there is to always say yes. Once you say yes, you can figure out how to make it work afterwards.”

At this point, Anika was well into her second mojito, and Mr. Doyle’s high quality rum had dissolved some of the barriers she usually kept high all around her.

“It sounds like you’ve made your decisions out of bravery,” Anika said. “I think I’ve made most of mine out of fear.”

“Well,” Mr. Doyle said, “you can’t be brave unless you thought long and hard first how you might fail. Otherwise you’re not being brave at all—only reckless.”

Mr. Doyle swirled the ice around in his glass.

“How has my boy James been helping you?” he asked.

“He’s been incredibly helpful.”

“That poor boy. He’s a little lost, I’m afraid. When I met him, he had suffered a disappointment in love. A terrible disappointment. He was so unhappy.”

Anika flushed. Did Mr. Doyle know? Surely not. He seemed so casual. He wasn’t even looking at her, he was still idly stirring his ice with his straw.

“I think, with all the people he’s met since, that no one has quite measured up to that first love. He said she was so intelligent and so genuine. A truly good person, he said, good to her core. He thinks he’s over it now, but you know, some things leave scars. Oh, well,” he set his glass down on a side table. “That’s why I encouraged him to come out here. I think the change will do him good.”

“I’m sure it will,” Anika mumbled, eyes on the carpet. It was not her father’s carpet—they were sitting now in what had been his study—and he certainly would not have allowed turkey croissants or any kind of food to be eaten in it.). The tufted leather couches were the same as they always had been, but the desk had been moved, and this new—or, rather, very old—antique rug, had replaced the minimalist carpet that once had lain across the wood floors. That, and a few other alterations mingled with the familiar parts of her old home, felt extremely disorienting, especially in her state of mild inebriation. She became a little sick, either from the liquor or from what Mr. Doyle had said.

“Mr. Doyle,” she said, “you were so incredibly kind to invite me here.”

Perceiving her distress he said, “I hope it was a kindness. I know it must be hard for you to see me living here instead of your own family.”

“No,” she said honestly, “I think no one could deserve this place more than you. It was my mother’s house and you’re more like her than...than most people would be. I’d better head back to the city though. I don’t want to miss the train.”

“Your aunt wished she could have driven you, but you know she’s in Paris.”

Anika nodded. Aunt Molly went every year. Anika had joined her two or three times in the past.

“Come back as often as you like,” Mr. Doyle said. “You can just visit the horses—I won’t always make you entertain me as well.”

“I’d like to visit you all,” Anika smiled.

Mr. Doyle gave her a hug as she gathered her coat and bag. It was the solid, lasting hug of a friend. Anika had to blink back the tears that weighed down her lashes. Why did she cry so easily these days? It was so strange how the people to whom you would expect, by blood or long acquaintance, to form the strongest connection so often disappointed. And yet you could come upon someone else, unexpectedly, whose kindness and quality of spirit would make you forget that disappointment in an instant. It was so lucky, and it made her so glad.

“I will come back to visit,” she promised again, squeezing Mr. Doyle’s hand.

“Good,” he said. “Molly said she’ll bring us home some real champagne.”

* * *

8

That week there was one social engagement Anika couldn’t avoid: Gwen’s birthday party. Gwen was turning twenty-eight, and Hannah had invited everyone in their office, plus a lot more people, to come to a quiz night at a local pub.

When Anika arrived, she saw that Hannah and Gwen had come early to take possession of three or four of the best tables, bedecking them with pink and silver balloons and confetti, much to the annoyance of the pub employees.

This decorative scheme skewed more to Hannah’s preferences than to her sister’s, but Gwen good-naturedly donned the ridiculous “Birthday Girl” t-shirt and tiara Hannah provided, and drank all the horrible shots everyone kept buying for her.

Calvin not only attended but brought a date—a remarkably cute girl from his squash league. Hannah and Gwen teased him by asking repeatedly if that was his cousin or his sister? To the girl, Joselyn, they were friendly, asking if she and Calvin would join their quiz team and help them pick a namenotStar Wars-related.

A dozen or so of Gwen’s friends from university attended, plus about half as many from her former job at the Red Cross—nurses who arrived direct from a blood drive, still wearing their scrubs, to immediately spearhead the buying and the drinking of the horrible shots.

Anika expected James to be there, but she was surprised to see Gwen’s on-again-off-again boyfriend Blaine follow him in the door. Blaine was a dentist who worked for the military. The “on” part of their relationship generally happened when he was on leave, and the “off” part when he deployed to some far-flung corner of the globe.

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