“Should I stay in the car?” I ask, a ball of nerves bouncing around in my stomach. “That would be fine with me.”
“Why would you want to do that?”
“I mean, your mom might want some alone time with you. If your dad’s still upset, my presence could make it worse. Did we think about that?”
He pulls the SUV next to a white truck and parks. Then he turns to me. I wonder if he can hear my heart racing.
“You’ll be a good distraction for Mom, and there’s a chance that I get in there and Dad doesn’t know me either.” He reaches for my hand. “And I’d really like you to come with me. But it’s up to you. I want you to be comfortable.”
His eyes are bright and clear, searching mine through the darkness. He squeezes my hand before pulling back, and I can sense the tension begin to settle over him.This must be so hard … and I don’t want to add to it.
“I’ll go,” I say, sounding way more certain than I feel.
He grins. “Thank you.”
I wait for him to open my door and then step out into the cool night. Crickets chirp in the distance. An owl hoots as if it’s warning the others in the trees surrounding us that there are visitors. The sky is so dark, lit by a million stars and a bright moon, and I’ve never felt a place so serene.
Bracing myself for the unknown, wishing I’d worn something a little more respectable, I step through the front door with Drake behind me. A woman, unmistakably Drake’s mother, looks up from a small table in the kitchen. Her eyes have bags, and exhaustion streaks her features, but she’s beautiful, nonetheless. And when she sees Drake?Her whole face lights up.
She stands, holding her arms out for her son. “Oh, you sweet boy. Thank you for coming.”
“Of course.” He wraps her in one of his warm hugs. I know how transformative those are and understand why she needed one tonight. “Are you okay?”
I peer around the kitchen, sure that I can hear echoes of laughter and happy birthday songs and silverware clattering against plates. The air is warm and spicy, reminding me of cinnamon. A cookie jar is by a bay window, undoubtedly filled with homemade treats.
“Mom,” Drake says, turning to me. “This is Gianna. Gianna, this is Barb Bennett, my mother.”
Her gaze shifts to me as a broad smile stretches across her face. “I’m a hugger,” she warns, coming to me with the same open arms she had for Drake.
“Oh.”
Drake chuckles at my reaction as Barb pulls me against her. My eyes go wide as if to say,What the fuck is going on?But it only amuses him more.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Bennett,” I say as she leans away. “I hope it’s okay that I’m here tonight.”
“It’s Barb. And you just put the first smile I’ve had on my face all week.” She pats my cheek lovingly. I freeze at the gesture despite the rivers of warmth cascading through me. “Can I get you a drink? Tea? Coke? Water?”
“I’m fine,” I say, not wanting her to worry about me. “Just pretend I’m not here.”
“Nonsense. I want you to make yourself at home.” She points at a cabinet by the sink. “There are cups in there and bowls and plates in the one beside it. The pantry is over there. Have what you want out of the fridge, honey.” She clasps her hands at her chest. “I’m just happy you’re here.”
“Oh, well, I … I’m happy to be here,” I say, fumbling over my words.
Drake’s brows pull together for a split second before he stands by my side. His palm nestles in the small of my back while he speaks with his mom. The contact helps calm my jitteriness.
“Let’s go into the living room,” Barb says. “I’ve sat in this kitchen all night and the chair is killing my back. Are you sure you two don’t want anything? I have some leftover meatloaf in the fridge.”
“If we’d known we were coming, we wouldn’t have eaten,” Drake says, winking at me. “How’s Dad? Is he asleep?”
Barb sighs, her shoulders drooping. “Yes. Finally. I’m going to see if the doctor can give him something stronger to help settle him at night when he’s like this. It’s like having a toddler again, only this toddler says some pretty cruel things, drives a car, and uses a chainsaw. This makes Evie as a toddler seem like a teddy bear.”
Oh, Barb. No wonder she’s exhausted.
We move through a passway filled with pictures of Drake and two blond girls who heavily resemble him. There are shelves with trophies and plaques—newspaper articles framed and preserved. I’d love to go through them someday and read all about his accomplishments.
I bet his parents are so proud of him.
“I’m sorry that I bothered you,” Barb says as we all take a seat. Drake and I sit by the window, and Barb takes a floral print chair by a brown recliner. “I just … I didn’t know who to call. If I call your sisters, I get Evie thinking the world is going to stop spinning and Elodie thinking she needs to take over everything. There’s no one to vent to that won’t cause me a bigger headache at the end.”
