The Last Night in London by Karen White (reading list .TXT) 📕

“Let’s wait until your father is better, and this war is won. It will give us both something to look forward to.”

His hands dropped to his sides. “Is it Alex?”

“What? Of course not. How could you even think that?”

“Because I don’t understand you right now. You’re not making any sense. What else am I to believe?”

“That I love you. And I will wait for you. And we can dream together, of our lives after the war, of our beautiful house by the sea. I want to be able to hear the waves from the bedroom, so you and I can wake up together, listening to the ocean. Won’t that be lovely? You can build it so it’s just what we want. People will be amazed. They’ll think you’re the next John Nash.”

He took a step toward her and held her head in his hands, his eyes glittering in the lamplight. “I want more than just dreams, Eva. Tell me you love me, and that will give me something to come back for.”

“I love you, Graham. More than I can say. And I promise to keep your ivory dolphin close to my heart every day. It will be a good-luck charm for both of us.”

“I don’t believe in luck. But I do believe in you.” He kissed her, soft and sweet, sealing their promise and almost making her believe that it would all work out in the end.

—

Later that night, after Eva and Precious had shared their ritual cup of hot cocoa before bed, they talked about the evening and Sophia and David, about the music and how Precious found Alex to be the most handsome man she’d ever met. Eva pretended not to feel ill at the mention of Alex’s name or at the memory of his hateful words.

“Sweet dreams,” Precious said at last, as she always did. She left Eva’s room, softly closing the door.

Eva stared up at the sky outside her window, by turns feeling happy and troubled. She’d thwarted Alex this one time, even though it had broken her heart to tell Graham no. And she wasn’t naive enough to believe she’d won. But Graham was hers, she told herself, and they would be married eventually. That was the one thing she would focus upon. Everything else would work out. Somehow, it always did.

When she finally fell asleep, the ivory dolphin clasped in her fist, Eva dreamed of a house high on a cliff overlooking the water that she and Graham would share, of waves crashing against the shore before pulling back to the sea, and of the endless and futile attempt to remain whole before collapsing on the sand once more.

CHAPTER 22

LONDON

MAY 2019

Despite my comfortable bed and beautiful bedroom, I’d slept fitfully, tossing and turning and replaying the evening over and over in my head. Mostly I focused on Colin’s kiss, but then I’d loop back around to the after-dinner conversation and Precious telling us to have sweet dreams as she left the room. Eventually, I’d thrown on a sweatshirt and jeans and grabbed my backpack, then attempted to make my way down to the kitchen in search of coffee just as the sun rose. I stumbled through the house, turning down wrong hallway after wrong hallway.

My phone beeped with a text from Aunt Cassie as I crossed through the dining room. I stopped to respond, knowing I couldn’t text and figure out the maze of hallways simultaneously. It was the middle of the night in Georgia, but my aunt sometimes worked best in the wee hours on the creative aspects of her job as the partner of an advertising agency.

I made your appointment with Dr. Grey.

Thanks. I think.

How’s it going?

Fine. Confused.

Is it Arabella’s cousin?

???

Sorry—Sarah Frances told me about him. What’s his name?

I ignored her second question. Yes—Arabella’s cousin. I paused, wondering how much I should tell her. And then I remembered this was my aunt Cassie, who knew me better than most. I took a deep breath. He kept a photo of me on his desk all these years.

Wow. Did you remember him?

I held my thumbs over my phone, not sure how to answer. Finally, I tapped, Sort of. More than I thought.

A smiley face emoji appeared on my screen.

I answered with ???

It was that way with your uncle Sam and me, too. Turns out I remembered a lot more about him than I thought. And then I married him.

I stared at my screen, wondering how to respond. I’m not marrying anyone so tuck that thought back where it came from.

Sure. Call me later. Although I like texting you.

Why?

Because you type in full sentences. And tell me his name!

I sent her an eye-rolling emoji, then closed my screen and returned to my hunt for the kitchen, imagining I smelled coffee as I opened yet another door and found myself in a broom closet. I wondered if lack of caffeine made people hallucinate as I opened the second doorway to my right, which finally led me into the kitchen.

Sun streamed through the tall windows over the sink, reminding me of home. I could picture my mother standing at our kitchen sink, washing out the endless Tupperware Popsicle holders to make sure that each of us had his or her favorite color. She always wore pink rubber gloves to protect her hands. The last time I was home, I’d found a box of them tucked in the back under the kitchen sink. They must have made the move when my dad and Suzanne relocated to a new house after they married. The rubber had probably disintegrated by now, but no one seemed to have the heart to throw them away.

“Good morning.”

I jumped at the sound of Penelope’s voice. She sat at the kitchen table with a cup of steaming coffee and the hatbox of cut photographs, surrounded by newspaper clippings. A rectangular black box and a thick leather-bound album I hadn’t seen before sat