I laugh. “What about you?”
“Just Lucia.” Her brows tug together. “I wouldn’t say she’s my best friend because that’s Astrid and Audrey. But Lucia and I are close in a different way.”
“Yeah, you’re family. I get it.”
She makes a sound as if that’s not quite right. “Maybe. We grew closer when our parents died, and we had to deal with all of that together. And now it’s just her and me, you know? We don’t have an extended family because our parents were never homelong enough to facilitate one.” She takes a quick sip of her tea. “So maybe you’re right. Maybe it is because we’re family.”
I clear my throat as a heaviness sinks into my chest. “That will happen with my sisters and me, too. Probably sooner than I want to think about it.”
“Why?”
“My dad has dementia.”
The words drop between us like a lead balloon. It’s the first time I’ve said those words out loud to someone without the last name Bennett. Saying them aloud to Gianna feels like I’ve let something out of a box that I can never put back, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.
She reaches across the table and places her hand on mine. “I’m sorry, Drake.”
I roll my palm over and lace our fingers together once again, giving them a gentle squeeze. Then I pull my hand away.
“Thanks,” I say. “He’s in the early stages, and we’re all still trying to adjust. It’s hardest on my mom, of course. But she’s handling it like the champ she is.”
“That would be awful. My grandmother had dementia, and it’s tough. My parents moved her into a nursing home close to us, and she lived there for years.” She takes an uneven breath. “When Mom and Dad died, they were just gone. But it was like we lost Grandma over and over. It’s heartbreaking.”
“Guess I have that to look forward to.”
She winces. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No. I’m glad you did. Now I won’t feel bad calling you when I’m sad.” I smile. “Can I ask what happened to your parents?”
“Yeah. They were on vacation and driving in the mountains. A deer jumped the guardrail and ran right in front of them. They were in heavy traffic, going about eighty, the police think. And Dad had nowhere to go.” She frowns. “I was nineteen.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
She sits back as Raffi returns with our burgers. Our drinks are refilled, extra napkins placed on the table, and then we’re alone again.
We eat quietly for a while, tucking into our meal and our thoughts. I hate that the levity of our conversation was ruined, but I’m glad we shared our experiences. It’s nice to know she understands what I’m going through, and I’m happy to know more about where she’s coming from. It helps.
“So tell me about your art,” I say, hoping I’ve given her enough time to sort herself. Even if she hasn’t, art seems like a safe topic to bring us out of the gloom.
She looks up at me with a soft smile. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. Done any dumpster diving lately?”
“Well … okay.” She sets her burger on her plate and sits taller. “I’m working on the project with the cans that I was telling you about. My kitchen is covered in cut-up aluminum. I’m also in the middle of a project that I never should’ve started.” She makes a face. “I’m trying to recreate a picture from buttons. It’s a pain in the ass.”
I take a drink. “I saw this guy on TV the other day who was remodeling a house. He used pennies to create a border around the edges of his office floor. I wonder if you could do something like that with buttons?”
Her eyes light up.
“They’re not flat like pennies, so that would be a challenge,” I say, wondering how in the hell I’m coming up with this. It’s not like I’ve ever thought about using buttons for anything other than a jacket before this conversation. “Maybe if you built the floor up and left a little channel around the room, it could work.”
“Stop talking dirty to me.”
I laugh, shaking my head at her.
She fans her face. “I’m all hot and bothered now.”
“There’s nothing I can do about that since you gave me your token of appreciation,” I say, slipping my hand into my pocket.
