But I still call, and Kathy promises that soon she’ll let me come by. Legally I have no rights to Evan—my father had been telling the truth; she had a good case for custody. Kathy’s not his mother, but she’s not my mother either. She’s better.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Your aunt seems reasonable,”Kendra says as I sit at the kitchen table on Thursday. “So maybe she’s just taking the advice of a well-meaning therapist. I’m sure she’ll let you see him soon.”
Cameron and Marcel are picking up takeout, and Kendra is using the opportunity to ask about Evan. She’s been waiting for a while.
I look at her, trying to see if she thinks my aunt is better for Evan than me. But I don’t see that kind of judgment in her eyes.
“You’re a good person, Savannah,” she says softly. “I’m sure Kathy knows how much you love him.”
And my heart aches because in all my life, no one has ever said that I’m good. I’ve been badass, I’ve been beautiful, and I’ve been a bitch. But I’ve never been good. I look down at the table.
“I miss him,” I whisper as my face begins to tingle with the beginnings of a cry.
“I know you do,” she says, brushing my hair back from my shoulder. “And you’ve been so brave. You really have.”
Cameron is lucky to have had her his whole life. And I’m lucky because Kendra lets me stay at their house whenever I want. I want to every night, but I do it only on the weekends. I don’t want to be a burden.
“How are things with your father?” she asks, taking a sip of her iced tea.
“Okay.” Things are awful. After he slapped me, I refused to speak to him. Even when he gets drunk and yells my name from the living room, sometimes crying, I don’t answer him. I can’t. He gave Evan away. He just gave him away, and I’ll never forgive him.
Kendra watches me for a moment, probably knowing that I’m lying, but she just nods. The front door opens and Cameron’s laugh travels in from the entryway. Kendra and I look at each other, and she smiles.
“Hey,” Cameron says to me as he walks in the room.
“Hi.”
He sets a plastic bag with trays of food on the table and comes to put his hands on my shoulders.
“What’d you get to eat?” I ask, looking up at Cameron. “And please don’t say Cantonese.”
“Of course,” he says. “It’s your favorite.” He leans down and pecks my lips. “I’m just kidding. It’s spaghetti with extra meatballs.”
“You guys need anything before we leave?” Kendra asks us, taking out two plates for us.
“Nope,” Cameron says, pulling out a chair to sit next to me. “But I think you should ask Savannah to stay over. She always says no when I ask her.”
I turn to glare at him, but he only smiles.
“Honey,” Kendra says to me. “Please stay the night. I don’t like the idea of you being alone. Cameron says your father is never home.”
For a second I want to be defensive. I want to be mad at Cameron for talking about me when I’m not around, but I know it’s because he cares. Not because he doesn’t.
“I’ll stay tonight,” I say, but drop my eyes. I’m still embarrassed of where I came from.
“I’m glad,” Kendra says. “I like when you’re here. It’s nice to have another girl around.”
I thank her and watch as she leaves the room. When she’s gone, Cameron shifts in his chair, putting his elbows on the table.
“Sorry,” he says from next to me.
“It’s okay.”
He grabs my chair and pulls it until it’s up against his. Cameron wraps his arms around me and puts his chin on my shoulder. I love when he does that. He always seems to know when I need it.
“You really shouldn’t talk about me when I’m not here,” I say, mostly joking.
