Page 138 of Someone Like Me
Mom closes her eyes, lifts her brows, and shakes her head, looking just as exasperated as she did when Tori and I used to fight as kids. “Let’s not talk about this now, Evie.” Then she blinks at Drake with a ready smile and slips off her stool. “We need to get going, but it was so nice meeting you, Drake.” She offers him her hand again, and Drake, that… that... that...
Hamflower.
I hear the insult in Drew’s voice, and I swear, I almost laugh.
Drake shakes Tori’s hand, and then he has the nerve to touch my elbow before leaning in and pressing a kiss to my cheek. I turn to stone beneath his touch, but the urge to strike him is almost overpowering. My parents haven’t exactly softened toward Drew in the last few days, but at least they have some compassion for what he’s going through with Mrs. Vivian. I already know Drake’s comments aren’t going to help.
Drake waves as he disappears into Studio A, and the three of us grab our bags and head out the front door. Mom waits until we’re safely on the front porch before she speaks.
“How. Embarrassing,” she says, making each word its own sentence.
My brows bunch together. “What? Why are you embarrassed?”
She pulls the keys to the Volvo from her purse and jingles them in agitation. “Because, Evie. The person you are seeing, a hardened criminal, harassed that young man on my property.”
I think my jaw actually comes unhinged.I’mabout to come unhinged. I jab my finger toward the studio. “Mom, that’s the guy you told me not to go out with. Because I didn’t like him, remember?” We reach the car, but I put my body between hers and the driver’s side door. “I should have listened to you on that one, but I didn’t, and when he took me home, he kept trying to get inside even though I was trying to tell him no.”
Mom stiffens at this before a crease forms between her brows. “But why was that Moroux boy out there at night. Was he waiting for you to come home?”
I can’t help it. My eyes roll like a tiny white ball on a roulette wheel. “Mom, no. He was out for a walk. He heard us on the porch and stepped in.” I pin her with a glare. “I was grateful.”
I was also irritated with him that night, but I don’t need to tell her that.
And though I’m irritated right now, the thought of Drew centers me. Fills me with warmth. He’s looked out for me from the moment we met. I want more than anything to do the same for him. Protect him. Let no one abuse him.
The thought rises from within me like a prayer.
Let no one abuse him.
Mom just shakes her head. “I don’t know, Evie. That young man seemed very taken with you,” she says, sounding uncertain. “And he’s getting an MBA. On the face of it, he sounds like he’s a lot better for you than—”
I raise my hand, palm out. “Stop. Mom, stop right there,” I warn. “There is absolutely nothing Drake Jordan can give me that I want. That date he took me on? It was miserable because he never once respected my wishes. Not with what I wanted to eat or drink and certainly not when I wanted to end the evening.”
Again, Mom looks startled, and she opens her mouth to speak, but I don’t give her a chance.
“Drew sees exactly who I am, and not only does heacceptwho I am,” I say, stressing the word, “helikeswho I am. Knowing him has made me realize just how rare that is.”
Mom’s lips part. She looks stunned. “Are you saying that you think we don’tlikeyou?”
The hurt in her eyes squeezes my heart, and I let go a sigh. “Mom, I know you and Dad love me…” I can’t seem to bring myself to add Tori to the list. I don’t even let my eyes land on her, but I feel her presence beside me, and it’s definitely not loving. I shake my head, bringing my focus back to my mother. “I know you love me. I just don’t think you are crazy about who I am.”
Looking crushed, she almost stumbles forward and grips me by the shoulders. “Evangeline, my goodness, what a thing to say.” She shakes her head. “Of course we’re crazy about you. Why would we fly halfway around the world to see about you if we weren’t crazy about you?”
“Mom.” Frustration draws out the word. I put my hands over hers as they clutch my shoulders. “That’s not what I mean.”
She expels a gust of air. “Well, thank goodness.” She shakes her head and glances down at her wristwatch. “Look, let’s talk more about this over lunch. Your father is going to be waiting for us.”
Wordlessly, I agree and climb into the back seat of the Volvo. Tori rides up front with mom, but more than once, I catch her staring at me as we drive.
At the Blue Dog Cafe, I order the crab corn bisque and a Perrier.
My dad frowns. “That’s all your getting?”
“Dad, it’s lunch. And everything else looks enormous.” I eye the menu again. I’m sure the Crawfish Enchiladas and Blue Crab Spaghetti are delicious, but it seems like a lot of food for eleven-thirty in the morning.
My dad makes a noise of disapproval before turning to Tori. “What about you, T. What’ll it be?”
Tori scrutinizes the menu. “I’ll have the Chicken & Sausage Gumbo and the Devilled Eggs.”
