Page 136 of Someone Like Me
One happy family.
“They moved her to the ICU yesterday,” I say and watch Mom’s mouth form a startledO.Even Tori winces. It’s Saturday. I haven’t seen Drew since Thursday, but he looked like hell then. He’s spent almost every night this week at the hospital after working at the garage all day. I’ve tried to meet up with him when I could, bringing him the occasional sandwich or latte, but between classes, baby duty, and my parents visiting, it hasn’t been easy.
Momtsks.“Well, I’m sure that’s very hard on your friend,” she concedes, her eyes sympathetic.
I should be grateful for the sentiment. At least it’s a sign she’stryingto have compassion for Drew, but since she’s made an attempt every day this week to get me to take mydream tripor keep myoptions open,I can’t really bring myself to feel too excited about it.
“Itishard for him,” I say, feeling the now familiar surge of protectiveness for Drew. “He’s very close with her.” I think about the last time I visited the hospital, before they moved her to ICU. Drew was trying to get her to eat some mashed potatoes and gravy, but Mrs. Vivian kept turning up her nose even though she was barely conscious.
“Tastes like instant,”she kept complaining. So Drew would wipe her mouth as if she were a baby and try again a minute or two later when he hoped she’d forgotten her protest.
She hadn’t.
Seeing them like that had squeezed my heart and brought tears to my eyes. “He’s really sweet with her,” I say, my nose stinging. “Losing her is going to devastate him.”
Mom’s manicured brows lift in shock. “Don’t say that, Evie,” she scolds lightly, scandalized. “You don’t know what’s going to happen. Mrs. Vivian’s a strong woman. More active than any senior citizen I know. She could pull through.”
I don’t tell her that Mrs. Vivian is already in another energy plane, having end-of-life experiences with those who have moved on. This feels too precious to tell. I was honored when Drew shared it with me — as well as his fear and wonder. It freaked him out a little, but I think talking helped. Keeping all of this sacred feels like the best way to honor him as he goes through this.
But more than anything else, I think Mom would just dismiss it. I guess I’m glad she and Tori came to my class. Maybe they are making an effort to get to know who I really am and what I value, but I didn’t miss how stiff Mom got when I opened class with my singing bowl and a few chants.
Though, I have to admit, her body looks more relaxed now as she sips her tea. And her eyes are a little softer. Maybe she got a taste of just how awesome yoga is. If so, I’m grateful.
So I go with that instead of talking about Mrs. Vivian. “I’m glad y’all came today,” I tell them, meeting both their gazes in turn.
Holding her cobalt blue teacup between the fingers of both hands, Mom casts her focus around the studio. She’s smiling.
“It really is a lovely place.” Her tone is warm, appreciative. “I wonder how the owners do.” Her brow creases as she seems to be calculating in her head. “Do you know if this is their sole income?”
I squelch a sigh with a sip of tea. I can already tell where she’s going with this. “I’ve never asked.” This is true. Technically. But not completely. And the guilt of knowing that I’m willfully deceiving her makes me speak up. “But I think the owner started in marketing.”
Mom purses her lips, considering. “Well, small businesses are risky.” She looks around, taking in the whole boutique, tea shop, and reception area. She slips off her stool, moves to one of the display mannequins, and reaches for the price tag on its shirt. Her brows lift in approval. “But a business degree sure comes with a lot of options.”
I finish my tea and set my cup in the saucer instead of telling her I don’t want a business degree. I glance at Tori who is smiling like this is Christmas morning. Mom comes back to the table.
“If you went back to school in business, by the time you got out, Daddy would be retired. We wouldn’t have the house note,” she says with a shrug. “We could help you open a place like this if the market was right at the time.”
The thought of having my own studio holds some appeal, but I know I can’t go there with Mom. Not right now, anyway. “I really just want to teach yoga, Mom. I’m happy right where I am.”
She winces. “But you’re not even full-time. What about things like insurance and benefits? You can’t stay on our plan forever, you know.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “I do know, Mom. But I have five years to figure out the insurance. A lot can happen in five years.”
Mom nods curtly. “Yeah, like earning a bachelor’s in business.”
And it’s as if her words cast black magic. Because as soon as she speaks them, the bells over the door jangle, and in walks Drake Jordan. His head whips around to us, and I read both surprise and satisfaction on his face.
His gaze moves to me and his eyes narrow, giving him a look of mischief. “Who’s earning a bachelor’s in business?”
Mom and Tori both turn to look at him, and I silently curse. Drake doesn’t miss the opportunity. Walking over with his hand extended, he smears on his most charming smile as he approaches my mother. “Hi. I’m Drake. Evie and I are friends.” His gaze flicks around the three of us. “Am I wrong, or do I see a family resemblance?”
Mom smiles, but Tori, true to form, just gives him a suspicious stare. Mom takes his hand. “Sondra Lalonde. Nice to meet you, Drake.” She releases his hand and gestures toward Tori. “This is my daughter, Victoria, Evie’s sister.”
Drake offers her his hand, and she takes it, still unsmiling, but watchful. “Tori,” she says, but it’s not unfriendly. I narrow my eyes at her as Drake presses his palm against hers. Tori blinks. Twice.
On someone else, it would count as batting her eyelashes.
I may vomit.
