Before leaving my daughter that evening, I asked her if she had her grandma's phone number stored in her phone, and to my relief, she did. Angel's phone was a simple, child-friendly model, one she used strictly for calling her mother, me, or a handful of close family members. It was locked down with usage restrictions, limited to specific times or emergencies. The thought of Angel having access to a number that could connect me to Eva caught me slightly off guard, yet I was thankful.
Back at my hotel, the weight of the situation settled in. I stood by the window, staring out at the city lights as the cool evening breeze drifted in, trying to calm my restless thoughts. How do I even begin a conversation with Eva? I couldn't just call her out of the blue, especially since I had the number through my daughter. The idea of asking about her separation felt invasive, even though I couldn't deny that something about her situation tugged at me. I wasn't sure if it was guilt, concern, or something more complicated. But the truth was, I felt unsettled - something was off, and I couldn't ignore it.
I turned to my phone and stared at it, tempted to just reach out. But there was no easy way to approach her without sounding too forward, too intrusive. Should I start with small talk, with something neutral? Or should I jump straight into asking how she was doing? The more I thought about it, the more the idea seemed unreasonable.
Then, in the quiet of my room, a thought hit me. Maybe it wasn't about calling her. Maybe it was about finding her - seeing for myself. I didn't have to directly ask her anything; I could just... find out. I'd known her well enough when I was married to her daughter and her life was intertwined with mine. It wouldn't be that difficult to track her down.
I stood by the window, feeling a slight pang of guilt, but it wasn't enough to stop me. I grabbed my phone and started searching. With a few quick searches and a couple of discreet moves, I had the information I needed. It was a bit devious, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to know where she was and how she was doing.
I didn't waste any time. I set out, hoping for a bit of luck. And luck, or maybe fate, was on my side that day. An hour later, I found myself walking through a bustling shopping mall, my eyes scanning the crowd. The place was packed with people, but there she was. Eva, standing in the middle of a store, her head slightly down as she sifted through items on a shelf.
I paused for a moment, my heart racing. Was this a coincidence? Could I pretend I wasn't expecting to see her? Could I make it seem like a random encounter? I adjusted my jacket, took a deep breath, and casually strolled in her direction. It felt a little strange, but at the same time, I was relieved to see her, to finally know where she was.
When she looked up and saw me, her face froze for a split second. I could tell she wasn't expecting to see me here - let alone act as if this was some sort of casual meet-up. But I didn't flinch. I smiled, took a few steps closer, and said, "Eva. What a coincidence."
"Ray? Yes, what a coincidence! Longest time! How have you been?" Eva exclaimed, her voice light and filled with genuine happiness. Her smile was warm, and there was a spark of curiosity in her eyes as she studied me, clearly surprised but pleased to see me.
"I've been good, Mom. What about you?" I replied, a smile tugging at my lips as I stepped closer. "I'm really happy to run into you here. Are you shopping? Let me help you with that."
Without waiting for a response, I reached for the cart she was pushing, moving to take it from her. For a brief moment, I saw hesitation in her eyes, as if she was considering whether to allow me this small favour. But then she stepped aside, giving me a quiet nod of approval.
"Well, it's really good to see you again after all these years," she said, her voice softening as she gave me a once-over. I could feel her concern radiating from her, even though she kept it hidden behind her usual poised exterior. Her gaze lingered for a moment, taking in my appearance with an almost motherly scrutiny.
As I scanned her, I couldn't help but notice the small changes in her. Despite her current situation - one that I could only assume had been difficult for her - she looked remarkably well. Healthy, even. Her posture was as commanding as it always had been, and the grace she carried herself with hadn't faltered one bit. But there was something new, something that hadn't been there before. I noticed the faint shadows under her eyes - tiredness, perhaps, or stress? It made me wonder what she'd been through since we last spoke.
She continued shopping, picking items off the shelves and tossing them casually into the cart, all while peppering me with questions. It was like no time had passed at all. She asked about my work, about Angel, and how life had been for me. Her questions came fast, as if she was trying to fill the space with familiar chatter, but I didn't mind. I answered each one, giving her glimpses into my life, trying to keep the conversation light, though my mind kept wandering back to her. It felt like a strange mixture of old familiarity and a new tension that hovered between us, unspoken but palpable.
"How's Angel doing in school?" she asked as we rounded another aisle. Her voice was full of concern for my daughter, and I could hear the affection in her words. "Has she been adjusting well?"
"Yeah, she's doing well," I replied, my thoughts drifting to the times Angel and I had spent together in the last few months. "She's been a little shy at first, but she's making friends. It's been hard, but we're managing."
Eva nodded slowly, her gaze lingering on me as if she were trying to gauge how much I was willing to share. She picked up a box of cereal and tossed it into the cart without another word, her fingers pausing briefly on the box before she continued.
"You seem to be managing well too," she said, her voice quiet, almost as if she were speaking more to herself than to me. "I'm glad to see you... happy."
I wasn't sure if she meant that or if she was just being polite, but it hit me in a way I wasn't prepared for. Her words lingered in the air between us, and I caught myself wondering what she thought of me now. What had changed? What had happened to her?
As the cart filled with groceries, the sounds of the bustling mall seemed to fade into the background, and I found myself more focused on Eva than on the items she was placing in front of me. It was a strange feeling - one that made me realize just how much I'd missed seeing her, even if it had been in brief, sporadic moments over the years. And now, here I was, standing in the middle of a shopping aisle, helping her pick out groceries like it was the most natural thing in the world. But deep down, I knew it wasn't. Something was different, something was off, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it yet.
When Eva was done picking the items, we made our way toward the counter. As we approached, she began to pull out her wallet, but before she could even place the first item down, I stepped forward.
"Please, Mom, let me do it," I said, offering a smile.
Eva raised an eyebrow, her hand still hovering over her wallet. "Ah, Ray, please don't worry about it. I have more than enough to pay for these items."
I gently shook my head, stepping even closer. "No, please. Let me. I insist. It's the least I can do for you."
There was a moment of hesitation as she regarded me, her eyes flicking to the cashier, then back to me. She opened her mouth to protest again, but I could see the quiet battle waging within her. Finally, with a small sigh and a reluctant nod, she handed me the items.
"Alright," she murmured, her voice almost soft with resignation. "Thank you, Ray."
I paid for the groceries, watching as she took a step back, her composure still firmly in place. It was typical of Eva - always graceful, never one to ask for help, or even accept it readily. She had this quiet dignity about her, never demanding, never expecting anything from anyone, unlike her daughter, Tessy, whose more direct nature seemed to contrast with Eva's more reserved demeanor. It was as if Eva had learned to carry herself with the weight of the world on her shoulders without ever burdening anyone else.
Once the transaction was done, I grabbed the bags and moved toward the exit with Eva. She followed close behind, her pace steady, though I could tell she wasn't in any rush to leave. We stepped out of the store into the cool evening air. I turned to her, my hand full of the grocery bags, and offered a casual smile.
"Thank you for everything, Ray," she said, her voice kind, but there was an undertone of finality to it. "It was really nice to see you again. God bless you."
Her words felt dismissive, almost as if she was expecting me to just go, to leave her there with the bags and carry on with my day. But I wasn't quite ready to walk away just yet. I didn't want to leave her standing in front of the store alone, no matter how polite or distant she tried to seem.
"Did you come with your car?" I asked, my voice laced with concern, hoping she'd let me help just a little more.
She paused before replying, and I noticed her eyes flicker with something - perhaps hesitation or uncertainty. "No," she said quietly, her gaze shifting downward for a moment. "I didn't come from home... and I'm not heading home either. I need to get an Uber now."
The words landed heavier than I expected. It wasn't the statement itself that caught me off guard - it was the way she said it, with a sort of quiet finality that made it clear she wasn't just casually heading home. There was something deeper behind those words, something that stirred something in me. The idea of her not heading back to a home made me realize, all of a sudden, how much she had changed.
I wasn't stunned by the fact that she hadn't driven here, or that she was taking an Uber. It was the way she spoke, the way she seemed to avoid the word "home," as if there was some emotional distance between her and the idea of a place where she felt secure.
I wanted to say something, to ask more, to offer her a more genuine way out of whatever she was dealing with. But instead, I simply nodded, my heart tightening at her quiet revelation.
"I see," I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Well, let me at least help you get the bags into the car. I know you're not heading home, but I'd like to make sure you don't have to carry them all the way to wherever you're going."
She gave me a small, almost weary smile, though there was no argument this time. "Thank you, Ray," she said softly, the we
ight of those words, not lost on me.
I helped her load the bags into the back of the Uber when it finally arrived, our conversation falling into a comfortable silence. There was so much I wanted to say, so many questions that lingered in the air between us, but I knew I couldn't push her too hard. She wasn't ready to talk about it - not yet.