Page 51 of Someone Like Me
This I can’t let slide. “But you were also his grandson.”
He clamps his mouth shut, and I see by the workings of his jaw that he’s clenching his teeth.
“Let me put it another way.” I try again. “Why would he have gone to your sentencing if he were ashamed of you?”
“To see justice done.” He bites off the words. He’s not talking to me. We may both be in the same room, but while I’m sitting in a chair at a small table with a miniature feast, he is wrestling a demon.
My words are gentle and low. “Is that something a dying man does? Goes to his grandson’s sentencing out of spite?”
Everything — his whole posture and the muscles in his face — goes slack then. Drew thumps his elbows on the table and stares at his outstretched hands. He closes his eyes. “No.”
Maybe he’s thinking it already, allowing the knowledge to penetrate, but I want him to hear it aloud.
“My guess is he went there to be with you on such a terrible day,” I whisper, “because he loved you.”
He opens his eyes and gives me a wary look, and I’m afraid I’ve gone too far. He watches me for a long time. Long enough for my heart to pound like an obnoxious snare drum in my chest.
If I could just touch him now, maybe he’d trust me. Maybe he’d trust himself.
I slide my right hand across the table to take his, but as soon as my fingers brush his knuckles, he pulls away.
He hides the intention by picking up the glass and taking a swig of its purple contents, ignoring the stinging blush that rises to my cheeks.
When he sets the glass down, I’m the one who needs to hide, so I take it up and follow his example. Watered down, artificial grape coats my tongue and slides down my throat.
“Good God,” I rasp. “That’s awful.”
It’s weak, but my effort draws a crooked smile from him. Again, he watches me for an endless moment. I can tell he’s debating his words. I see in his eyes when he makes up his mind.
“That was a nice thing to say.”
Relief courses through me, and I swallow hard. “You mean about the Kool-Aid?” I tease, wrinkling my nose.
A chuckle escapes him. “You’re a goof.”
That, right there, is worth the rejection,I tell myself.
Okay, yeah, the rejection is pretty bad. I don’t like it one bit. But I love seeing him laugh. Still, I’d better go before I make an even bigger fool of myself. The last thing I want is for him to tell me it’s time I leave.
“I should get going,” I say, getting to my feet. “I need to feed Gemini.”
He rises with me, a look of alarm flashing over his features and disappearing just as quickly.
“How is everything at your place? Your sister still mad at you?”
I roll my eyes and snort a bitter laugh. “Only every day.” It’s true, but I don’t tell him about the fight we had when I came home Saturday with the burn on my hand. Or the late-night Skype-lecture that followed hours later. “At least she’s not talking about moving out anymore.”
Drew’s brows draw together. “Evie, your sister sounds crazy.”
This time my laugh is genuine. “Why do you say that? You haven’t even met Tori.” Of course, I can’t fault him for his opinion. Tori is… well… Tori.
“She’d have to be,” he says, still frowning. “Who wouldn’t want to live with you?”
And I don’t know who is more startled. Me, suddenly awash in what feels like a warm bubble bath around my soul, or Drew, who looks like he could swallow his tongue.
“I-I mean… You know,” he stammers, walking us over to the door. “You’re easy-going a-and considerate. And you have great taste in cheese.”
He’s making light of his admission, but all of his bluster makes up for pulling his hand from mine. He likes me. He may not be able to accept everything I want to offer him — everything I am — but he likes me.
