Page 109 of Someone Like Me
My praise lifts creases around her eyes. But a closer look at her face has me wondering about her color.
She coughs again.
“I think you need to see a doctor.”
Grandma Q rolls her eyes at the ceiling. “And when he tells me it’s just a cough from the cane burning, what’ll you give me for the two hours I’ll lose in his office?”
She may be getting sick again, but it can’t be too bad if she’s still sassy. “I don’t know, Grandma. What do you want?”
She makes a noise of impatience. “I told you already. I want you to bring Evie for dinner.”
A grin splits my face. “Sorry, Grandma. Her parents are in town, and she’s out with them tonight.” But this is something I can offer. “I’ll see if she can come tomorrow night.”
She gives me a scandalized look. “Tomorrow’s leftover chops. Better make it Tuesday. Tuesday is shrimp creole.”
After dinner, I clean up and send Grandma to bed. I know she won’t go to sleep yet, but she will take a bath and watch TV in her room, and that’s about as close as she gets to letting herself rest.
When I hear the water running, I call Aunt Josie and tell her about the cough. Her guess is it’s probably nothing but promises to call Grandma’s GP in the morning. Which is a good thing because if she didn’t, I would, and I’d take off at the garage to make sure Grandma Quincy saw someone.
I knew — before my release — some things about life on the outside would be challenging. I never imagined worrying about other people would be one of them. This is twice in one day, and I’m not a fan.
But Evie and Grandma Q. Where would I be without them?
I turn out the lights in the kitchen, lock up, and head to my apartment with one thought in mind. If I have to worry about people, at least I picked good ones.
I try to pass the time by tidying up my small space and pricing replacement parts for the Supra on my phone, but I can’t help wondering how it’s going for Evie. So when she texts me just before nine o’clock, my shoulders finally loosen.
Evie: Sorry so late. You home?
Me: Yes. Come over.
I wait for her reply.
And wait.
I’ve almost convinced myself that her parents have talked her into dumping me when she responds.
Evie: Can I bring Gem?
Tension leaves me in a rush of breath.
Me: Yes. Anytime.
Evie: :) We’ll walk down.
Me: I’ll meet you halfway.
I glance around the apartment one more time. It’s clean. The floor is swept. My bed is made up with fresh linens. I have no expectations of what might happen with Evie, and I know she can’t stay late, but I want her to feel at home here. To feel comfortable. And if she can tell I made an effort, so much the better.
She deserves someone who makes an effort.
I’m at the corner of St. Patrick and Souvenir before I spot her just leaving her friend Janine’s house. She has Gemini harnessed and leashed and a backpack dangling from one shoulder. Under the light of the streetlamp, I see Evie has traded the jeans and green shirt for flowing yoga pants and a long-sleeve tunic.
She looks comfortable. And damn touchable.
But I check my itching palms when I close the distance between us and take in her face. She’s exhausted.
I reach for her. “You okay?”
