“It’s not a big deal. You know I’m always here to help.”
I gaze at his profile as he looks at his mother.
Drake is unlike any man I’ve ever known. He’s beautiful in a masculine way, with a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. He’ll stop what he’s doing to take care of those he loves. He’s sturdy and reliable, sweet and kind. I understand precisely why Barb called her son. If I had the option when something was wrong, I’d call him, too.
The room shifts as that thought filters through my brain. I’ve never felt like I could count on anyone before. Every person in my life, aside from Astrid and Audrey—and Lucia since our parents passed—has spectacularly failed me or not given a shit when I needed them to at one point or another. But my first, automatic thought about Drake was that I trusted him.
Holy shit.
“I know it’s not going to get any easier,” Barb says as I tune back into their conversation. “The scary part is that I don’t know what it’s going to look like. It’s still so new, and the unknown is terrifying.”
“But you’re not alone, Mom. Elodie, Evie, and I are here. We want to help you. We just don’t know the best way to do that.”
“There’s nothing you can do other than answer the phone when I call.” Her grin wobbles when footsteps come down the stairs behind her. She takes a ragged breath and looks over her shoulder, clenching the armrests of her chair. “I thought you were in bed, Edward.”
“I could’ve sworn I heard Drake.” He rubs the top of his head as he rounds the corner. The moment his eyes land on his son, his entire being changes. “Drake. Hey. What are you doing here? Is it morning?”
“No, no, Dad. It’s not.” Drake gets to his feet, crossing the room to hug his father. “I just came by to talk to Mom. You doing okay?”
He takes in the room like he’s recalibrating his surroundings. “Yeah. I’m good. A little confused. But it’s always nice to see you.”
Edward shuffles to the brown recliner, his slippers swishing across the hardwood as he moves. He’s a burly guy, every bit as tall as Drake but much heavier. His hands are thick and scarred. I bet one day, not too many years ago, Edward was a handful. I can’t imagine what it’s like for little Barb to manage him now.
Drake returns to his seat beside me, and that’s when his father’s gaze turns to me.
“Who are you?” he asks, cocking his head.
“Dad, this is my girlfriend, Gianna. Gianna, this is my dad, Edward.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say.
“A girlfriend, huh?” He narrows his eyes, assessing me. “How come I ain’t ever seen you before?”
“We just started dating a couple of weeks ago,” I reply, because the question was directed at me. “And Drake’s always talking about his dad and how great he is, so I had to see for myself.”
Edward puffs up, proud. “He was, was he?”
“I think you’re a little smaller than he let on. Otherwise, you check out so far.”
He lets out a loud, roaring chuckle. His burly chest shakes with amusement. Drake and Barb exchange a surprised, but pleased glance as Edward seems to come alive.
“Don’t let him talk shit about his old man,” Edward says, teasing Drake. “He knows I’ll still whip his ass.”
Drake tries not to laugh. “I’d hate to have you prove that tonight.”
Barb watches their interaction silently but tears well up in her eyes.What is she thinking, and how does this feel for her?But the love in her eyes is unmistakable.
I bet she is a terrific mother. The way she embraced Drake, then me—a woman she just met. She made me feel more welcome here than I ever did with my own parents.How is that possible?
Who are these people?I didn’t think people like this existed in the real world.
“What do you do?” Edward asks me. “For a livin’, I mean.”
“I’m a podcaster.”
“All right. What’s your show about?”
Drake subtly reaches for my hand and folds our fingers together.
