Eva

I spat my beer everywhere, followed by a coughing fit. My sisters found that hilarious, while Eva released the sort of delightful giggle that almost had me groaning in despair. "Ah, I see why you might have taken that the wrong way. Well, looking at who is here, there are at least eight single women, all divorcees, looking for a good man. Or a good fuck, at the very least."

That had me gazing at her in surprise. "Holy shit!" She smirked as she sipped at her wine. "Don't think I've ever heard you curse in front of me, Miss Ric.. Ah fuck it, Eva."

"I think there are many things you don't know about me, Mark." I had to swallow back at least half a dozen retorts in the space of three seconds. And she knew it too. She moved a little closer, resting her hand on my chest. "I am sorry to hear the news, Mark. You were friends for so long. I remember your wedding."

"Yeah. It's why Mum threw this little shindig."

"Weird being back home?"

"Definitely, but Mum and Dad have always said, if we had troubles, we'd always be welcomed back home. I'm the only one to have left then returned though. I'm here until I get my head on straight, save a little cash, then I'll think about my next step."

"Are you busy tomorrow?"

"Might be hungover, but otherwise, no."

"I've been alone for a while now and... well, the house needs a little TLC. Well, a lot, to be honest. I don't want to take advantage but..."

"I'll be there around midday."

"I'll make us some lunch. I know you probably already have a mountain..."

"We'll work something out. Don't worry."

She kissed my cheek. And it wasn't the sort of peck she sometimes used to give me when greeting me long ago. The sort that made me glance at her, seeing something in her eyes that delighted me. She was playing with me, I knew that much. And I didn't mind one little bit.

It was only when I was helping clear up after everyone had gone that Mum and Dad almost cornered me. "You were looking friendly with Miss Ricci," Mum said, an almost knowing smirk on her face.

"You mean Eva?"

"Oh, so you're now on first name terms?"

"I'm twenty-five, Mum! She's been asking me to call her that for seven years, at least."

"I'm just teasing, Mark. What did you talk about?"

"Well, you were right, I had a half dozen job requests, including from Eva."

"She needs it, son," Dad explained, "After everything that happened, trying to maintain that house she now has is difficult. And, as you know, some people like to take advantage by charging outrageous prices. She's been to see us more than once about quotes she received."

"Why not ask me? I'd have done something."

"She didn't want to impose."

I almost rolled my eyes at that, but left it alone. "I guess I can find out what happened."

"Just be careful. It won't be an easy topic," Dad warned, "It tore that small family apart." A look must have crossed my face, so he nodded before adding, "Yeah, it wasn't good for anyone."

Thankfully, I didn't have a hangover the next morning, thinking I drank in moderation more than I'd planned. My sisters, on the other hand, had barely risen by the time I was out the door. Arriving at Eva's house, it was obvious to see that the front yard had seen better days. The grass had been mown but that was about it. The garden looked a little better, but could do with some serious work. I almost dreaded the backyard.

Knocking on the front door, Eva answered it quickly, smiling at my appearance. She wore a tight t-shirt and shorts that showed off most of her legs, with sandals on her feet. I tried desperately not to look her up and down, my eyes covered by my sunnies at least. "Come in, Mark."

"Thanks." Hearing her close the door, we walked into the living room and I could immediately see half a dozen things that could be done. She watched my eyes as I clocked one thing then the other. "I see what you mean, Eva. Want me to just wander around and you can point out the urgent jobs, then the jobs you would just like done?"

She smiled. "Sure. And then there's... the backyard."

"Jungle?"

She shrugged. "Could be worse."

What was immediately obvious to me was that her ex-husband wasn't a handyman, and if he was, he'd never completed a single job in his life. I asked Eva if she'd done anything. She'd admitted to trying, but didn't have the confidence with any sort of tool in her hand. I said at least she'd tried, but wished she'd asked my mother to call me.

"I'd have come in a heartbeat, Eva," I said. The smile she returned... well... I think the sentiment meant something, at least.

The backyard was as bad as I expected. Just getting the lawn in some sort of decent state would take work. But then Eva added that she wanted further improvements. I listened to what she wanted and was impressed with her vision, but warned her it wouldn't be cheap, and that I might not have the time to focus on it. "I can give up my Saturday's, but..."

"Whatever you can do will be appreciated, Mark."

At least her pool was in good condition. Letting her know that, she smiled again, explaining it was the one thing she'd always taken care of, by herself or with Steven. I'd made a couple of lists on a notepad, those listed as urgent or non-urgent, looking over the lists at the table as Eva prepared some lunch. I was just expecting sandwiches or something simple.

Instead, I had a plate of lasagna with a bowl of salad placed between us, Eva ensuring there was also a bottle of red wine to accompany it. "Wasn't expecting this, Eva," I admitted.

"We obviously need to talk, Mark. About everything that happened." She took my hand in hers. "I thought you knew. I thought Steven would have told you what his father did."

"He never told me. I have a feeling he never told anyone." I took a bite of my meal before asking, "When did you last see him?" When she looked away, obviously upset, I squeezed her hand. "Been a while?"

"He hasn't been home since he left."

"What?"

"That's how bad it was, Mark. He simply can't face returning here. Too many bad memories."

I moved my chair closer and hugged her. I just had to. And when she started to cry softly on my shoulder, my heart damn near broke for her. In fact, it did. Her son had been gone for five years now. "You hear from him?"

"Occasionally. He does call from time to time." I stroked her back until she lifted her head, kissing my cheek. "Thanks, I needed that hug."

"Just an additional service I provide free of charge. Only to certain customers though."

Resuming our meal, she started to tell the story. "So you obviously know I had Steven young, and that his father was older. I never had the impression Michael was unhappy about marrying me. I mean, he said he loved me. Proved it by marrying me, providing me with this house, and for the first few years of our marriage, all seemed well." She sighed. "But I knew he had a wandering eye. He had the young dutiful wife at home and he was busy at work all week. Long hours. Travelling. Perfect opportunities."

"Ever catch him out?"

"Never got concrete evidence, but I could put two and two together well enough. I think he knew I had it figured out, and he also knew I didn't want to rock the boat, so to speak. If we divorced, I might have done well out of it, but Steven obviously wouldn't have a clue. And I didn't want him to grow up without his father around. Too many broken families as it is. So my focus went to my son. Michael and I rarely argued. I made sure he wasn't subjected to that sort of thing. But I let Michael know I was on to him. He was more careful after that, but I knew he was still playing around."

"Damn..."

She took a large gulp of wine, then a deep breath. I took her hand in mine again, which earned a slight grin. "How old was Steven when he met Charlotte?"

"Seventeen."

"She went to a different school, right?" I nodded. "So different circle of friends, all that sort of thing?"

"Yeah. I met some of them in social circles, but I won't claim to know many of them. I certainly had little to do with Charlotte outside of seeing Steven every so often once we left school. Emma simply didn't like her so they had nothing to do with each other."

"Emma's a smart woman." My mind started clicking into gear. I was almost dreading what was coming. I think I had it figured out already. "I already knew what my husband was up to. Once Steven was about sixteen, my ex-husbnd gave up all pretence about his affairs. By that stage, I just didn't really care about him, certainly didn't love him anymore. Our sex life was non-existent." She glanced at me, but I just nodded in understanding. This wasn't the time for joking or innuendo. "Steven and Charlotte seemed happy until the time of nineteen. Then I noticed his behaviour change slightly. I knew her but I guess I didn't know her that well. She would visit and, while she was friendly, there was something I couldn't put my finger on."

She took another gulp of wine, then she laced her fingers between mine. I had a feeling this was the difficult part. "Michael was sleeping with his son's girlfriend."

"Fuck," I muttered, "How long?"

"It had been going on a year before Steven found out. Soon as he did, he and his father had the mother of all blowouts. How they didn't end up killing each other that night... My son is rightly angry, embarrassed, end of his tether. Charlotte ripped out his soul. Cheating on him is bad enough. But cheating on him with his own father? I'm not sure there's a word in the English language to describe such behaviour."

"Evil. That's absolutely fucking evil, Eva. A black heart and soul to do something like that to your own son." I sighed. "That explains his departure then, right?"

I noticed tears start to fall. "His father said the vilest of things. 'I fucked her on your bed'. 'I fucked her on our marital bed'. 'She'd tell you she was busy while her lips were...'"

"Okay, Eva," I said softly, "I get it. I get it."

"Steven couldn't stay here. Simply couldn't. He got online, booked a one-way ticket to the UK, organised a visa, packed a bag. We two were the only people to know he was even leaving. I know you asked about Charlotte at the airport. 'She's around,' was what he said. She was with his father at that very moment."

"Fucking hell," I muttered.

"I obviously kicked him out. He happily left as he had an apartment already. Charlotte moved in with him immediately. Divorce went through a year later. They're now married."

"What the fuck? Really?" I leaned back, running a hand through my hair. "God, no wonder he doesn't want to come back." I helped her to her feet and hugged her, feeling her head rest just underneath my chin. I knew it hadn't been easy to tell me all that. "I simply had no idea. I was surprised he was leaving, but he just said it was something he needed to do. He was my best mate. He still is." I released a deep breath. "But even I can understand why he wouldn't tell me."

Eva grabbed the wine and her glass, I picked up mine, and we walked into the living room to sit on the couch. "That sort of things leaves scars, Mark. My son is gone. My husband... destroyed my self-worth. His family hate him, at least. I don't really speak to them anymore, but his parents practically disowned him for what they did to his own son, their grandson." She looked around. "I want all this changed, Mark. I've lived with reminders of those days for at least five years. I need it to look different for my own sanity."

"I'll start next Saturday."

"You don't..."

"Eva, next Saturday. 8am. I'll be here to start. I'll go through the list, start tallying up costs. I will only charge the price of materials, I won't charge labour."

"But... you'll be working all day, right?"

"So pay my labour with meals and your company." That earned a blush. "Just come and talk to me while I'm busy. That's all I mean."

I finished the wine and felt the urge to leave, though after that revelation, I didn't particularly want to leave her alone. So I sent a message to Mum, asking if we should invite Eva around, insinuating that I now know the truth, she was obviously upset, and that she could do with company.

Mum called Eva immediately, invited her to dinner, though as soon as she hung up, she turned to me. "Thank you, Mark."

"Eva, I may have been Steven's best friend, but I always hoped that, despite the fact you were his mother, you would have seen me as a friend too."

"I did. I do. But... it's difficult." She took my hand in hers again. "I'm sorry. I should have told you before. But I honestly thought Steven would have told you at least."

"Don't apologise, I wasn't expecting or asking for that. I'm just... Honestly, I want to find where Michael is living and give him the mother of all beat downs."

We chatted for another half an hour or so before I decided to leave, Eva giving me another tight hug before leaving her. Walking back inside when getting home, Mum had a beer in my hand within ten seconds, practically ordering me to sit at the dinner table. She admitted to knowing but had been sworn to secrecy by Eva. I assured her it was fine, that everyone assumed Steven would have told me. I was tempted to call him, but I figured after five years, he wouldn't want me bringing up that pain again.

I felt a little despondent the rest of the afternoon after all the revelations. Added to my own continued melancholy about my own failed marriage. A dip in the pool helped me feel at least a little better, joined by my sisters a little later, the pair helping put a smile on my face, at least.

Dad suggested a barbecue since it was a nice evening, I quickly messaged Eva, asking if that was okay, since she'd already been invited. She replied, assuring me she loved a good barbecue as much as the next girl, so that was good news. I was getting dressed when I heard the knock at the front door, Mum answering and the usual chatter of two middle-aged women. Wandering out in a polo shirt, slacks and shoes, both turned towards me and smiled.

"Thank you for the invite, Mark," Eva said, wearing a simple red sundress with white patterns.

"Looking as ravishing as ever, Eva. Care for a drink?"

Mum gave me a look as Eva walked to the kitchen. I smiled and shrugged. "Just being friendly," I whispered.

"I know about that crush of yours, Mark," she whispered back.

Drinks in hand, I joined Dad outside, sipping at our beers as the meat was prepared. Mum had already prepared everything else, so Mum, Eva and my sisters sat around, drinking wine, chatting and laughing away. "You aren't thinking with your right head," my father muttered.

"What?"

He glanced at me and winked. "Just be careful if you're going to do what I know you're going to do."

"I'm not doing anything."

"You're full of shit, Mark. Just be careful. Don't make Eva your rebound. She doesn't deserve it."

"Dad... Seriously..."

"You're my son, and I trust you, but Eva is a friend," he said quietly, "You're still hurting so just think carefully."

Still, when we'd finished cooking, I was sat next to Eva, the six of us chatting away happily. I was chewing on a bit of steak when I almost choked as I felt Eva's delicate hand rest on my thigh. Didn't move, just rested. I glanced at her, but she was focused on chatting to Michelle. I continued eating but occasionally took her hand in mine and squeezed it. I noticed her smile. Mum and Dad noticed too. I shrugged ever so slightly.

I walked Eva home once we'd eaten our fill and drunk enough that everyone had a light buzz going. Eva was laughing away at one of the stories I told her, the shenanigans Steven and I used to get up to. I assured her we caused far more trouble than she knew, but we never broke the law. We just ran amok at times.

Stopping at the driveway that led up to her house, she turned to face me. I knew kissing her was just out of the question. "Thank you, Mark. I had a great time tonight."

"I'm glad. And you're welcome to visit anytime."

"I'll see you on Saturday. Food and my company, correct?"

"Yeah."

I hugged her to my body, feeling her holding me tightly in return. She felt good. Smelled even better. Caressing her back, I felt her do the same to me. It seemed neither of us wanted to let the other go. When she leaned back, she had a curious look on her face. "I know this might seem weird, but I've told you all about my story, but I don't know yours."

I smiled. "Then another reason to stop by next Saturday."

"You could always visit... during the week..." Meeting her eyes, I was surprised to see her almost pleading with me to say something positive.

"Sure. I'll call you."

The smile that formed was simply dazzling. "I look forward to it." She kissed my cheek, caressed where she just kissed with her fingers, whispering, "Goodnight", before she walked to the front door. I waited until she was inside before returning home. Mum and Dad were in the living room on the couch. I sat down in one of the armchairs. I must have had a look on my face.

"Mark." I looked at my father. "It's good to see you smiling, son."

"Haven't seen Eva smile and laugh like that in years either," Mum added.

"Think we can stop this, honey?"

Mum snorted. "No. All we can do is give our son guidance when he needs it."

"We're just friends," I stated, "I've only just left my wife. As Dad said, I wouldn't want her feeling like a rebound, even if something does happen."

I was in a good mood that week, at least. I'd organised with all the neighbours the jobs they needed doing. I still had three jobs to complete elsewhere, so fixed my calendar so I could let everyone know when I'd be around to start. Some jobs were minor, but there were a couple that was almost like an entire house repair. I didn't mind that as it would give me and the boys something to keep us occupied.

I did drop by Eva's place on Wednesday night. I sent the occasional text throughout the day, but we were both busy, and I certainly had no expectations for her to drop everything and give me her undivided attention. She knew I was just as busy so didn't get upset if I didn't answer for a few hours. I popped around after I'd had dinner at home, Eva making sure a glass of wine was in my hand by the time I'd sat on the couch next to her. She was dressed in a silk robe that barely covered her arse, and I felt a stirring in my loins as she curled her legs.

After discussing our week so far, we got to the point of my invitation. Ensuring my glass was topped up, I leaned back and was surprised she changed position, her head leaning against the back cushion. "We've obviously known each other a long time," I started, "I'll be honest, I thought she was going to be my only girlfriend, fiancée then wife. Even when we had our issues, going so far as to break up twice, we never dated anyone else."

"If you didn't, you believed her?"

"Oh, her friends loved me. If she took up with another guy, one of them would have told me. Instead, they told me she usually spent our brief times apart crying. Never lasted more than a week before we resumed our relationship."

"So what went wrong, Mark? I remember your wedding. So many of us said 'If there's one couple that'll stay strong...' Hearing you were moving back home was a shock to everyone."

"It's wasn't just the one big thing. It was a bunch of smaller things too. We're just not the same people we were, even when we married. That's the thing, when we married, we were still growing as people. I know I'm very different at twenty-five compared to twenty, and she admits the same. When we started to argue and not settle it before going to bed, carrying the resentment into the next day, and then the next day, that's when I knew something was going wrong. Some would have suggested counselling, but while I think that would have helped, we were left thinking further problems would just come in down the line."