Page 106 of Someone Like Me
Evie blinks as she reads my text, and then her eyes dart to mine as green and as wide as I’ve ever seen them. Now full of the most innocent of hopes. I didn’t even debate telling her. Didn’t hesitate.
Because what if no one else sees her? It seemed impossible twenty minutes ago. Before I met her parents. I mean, who could be so blind and miss out on everything she is? But if they can’t see it, the very people who’ve raised her, then who else in her life has missed it? Her sister cleary has. And surely that Drake asshole.
What if I’m the only one? If I am, she needs to hear it.
“I see you, Evie,” I say aloud. “And I’m damn lucky.”
With all the force it takes to clear a fence or pop into a handstand, she flings herself against me. My breath goes for a second, and I have to fight to inhale as I wrap my arms around her. Evie’s family is still watching us, but I bend down and kiss her anyway.
No tongue or raunchiness or anything. Just a firm, promising kiss. And let them watch. Maybe it’ll give them a clue.
“Drew… You have no idea…” She’s muttering little snatches of phrases against my lips as I continue to stamp hers with kisses. “No one’s ever come close...Tuatha de Danann… ”
I have no idea what this means, but I’m sure it’s something that would make me laugh, so stifling my humor, I force myself to let her go. She needs to deal with her family, and I need to let her. But…
“Call me. If you need something, call me.”
She’s quick about it, but she brushes her eyes with the backs of her hands, and it’s only then I realize just what my testimony means to her.
Yeah, telling her was the right thing to do.
With my thumb, I catch one glinting tear on her lower lashes. “You good, Guppy?”
Evie nods, visibly swallowing.
I want to wrap her in my arms again. Shield her from whatever others might aim at her. I want to tell her how rare she is. I want to take her to bed and worship her.
And for the second time today, I want to give her a home.
I glance back at the three members of her family. Each one of them now stares openly at us. Judgement is written all over their faces. Maybe it’s just their judgement of me, and for that I’m sorry. But even if I weren’t in the picture, I can see Evie can’t be herself and live with them again.
She needs a home.
I stroke her cheek once more, drop my hand to hers and squeeze her fingers, and then I make myself move. Walking away from her is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
At the end of the driveway, I nod to her parents and Tori. Maybe there are courteous words I should say, but I can’t find them. They wouldn’t want to hear them anyway. I’m at the corner of St. Patrick and Souvenir Gate before I remember the giant box of condoms that’s still sitting in Evie’s bike basket, and a laugh nearly escapes me.
They couldn’t have seen it. We parked the bikes too far away. And if they had seen it, I can only imagine Evie’s father would have attacked me in the street. I wouldn’t have blamed him for that either.
I turn the corner and make my way back to Grandma Q’s. I need to check on her, and I’m grateful to have something to do. Otherwise, memories of last night and worries over how Evie is managing with her family would tangle me up.
It’s nearly eleven when I step into Grandma’s kitchen and find her at the table, paying bills with her checkbook and an old fashioned ticker-tape adding machine. And I should totally be prepared for it. I’m really a fool not to see it coming. But my mind and heart are just too full, so it takes me be surprise.
“You finally came to your senses, I see,” Grandma says, eyeing me over her bifocals as soon as I shut the kitchen door.
I stand, stunned silent for a moment, wondering just how she knows. Does she watch the apartment stairs twenty-four-seven? Is there a hidden camera I don’t know about? Or does she just consult a crystal ball?
“I guess that means you don’t disapprove of overnight guests in the apartment,” I say dryly.
Grandma snorts. “I wouldn’t say that. I came of age before Vatican II,” she says, raising her eyes to the crucifix over the door before crossing herself. “But I do approve of Evie.”
This isn’t a surprise, but it makes me grin anyway.
“Besides—” Grandma coughs once, clears her throat, drops her gaze back to the papers in front of her. “I could see you settling down with her — sooner rather than later if my guess is right. And then I wouldn’t have to worry over you.”
So many parts of this statement bounce against my brain I have to shake my head to clear it.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Grandma.” My voice is calm, but my heart thumps hard in my chest. She’s just spoken a hope I haven’t even let myself examine too closely.
