For what isn’t the first time today, she reaches into her purse and takes out a small spiral notepad and adds a few details to a lingerie sketch she’s working on. Sheepishly, she glances at me and finds me watching her draw.
“Sorry,” she says, snapping the notebook closed. “I get a little obsessive sometimes when it comes to new designs.”
“Don’t be sorry. Can I look?”
She hesitates for a moment, seeming a bit uncertain before opening the little sketch pad and handing it to me. It’s a detail drawing of a lovely bra with delicate, pearl-studded straps and lacy cups. Below the sketch showing it from the front is one displaying the unusual side-closure of the piece.
“There are no hooks or clasps,” she explains, leaning closer and pointing to the sketch. “It stays on using a touch fastener instead, see? It can be done with one hand. All the wearer needs to do is press the two ends of the bra together and it’s set. It comes off just as easily. And it can be custom-made to close on either side, based on customer preference or need.”
I lift my gaze to her bright, excited expression. “This is an adaptive design. For someone missing a limb.”
She nods. “I started thinking about it back in the locker room at the gym last night with Kelsey and Tameka and Lori. I have some ideas for panties and bustiers, too.” She shrugs, taking the notepad out of my loose grasp. “Anyway, they’re just ideas. I won’t be the first designer to offer adaptive lingerie, but I want L’Opale’s pieces to be as beautiful and unique as anything else we create.”
I’m staring, but damn if I can help it. I’m more than impressed. I’m proud of her. And I’m touched to think that she would take this kind of interest in my friends. My chest is heavy with all of the emotions she inspires within me.
She slips the pad back into her purse. When shepivots back around toward me, I slide my hands into her loose hair and slant my lips over hers.
“What’s that for?” she asks, smiling up at me after I kiss her, her forehead resting against mine.
“You, Evelyn. Just for being who you are.”
Her gaze softens, but I see the sultry edge of desire that’s still simmering below the surface. I see the question in her eyes, and I would be only too happy to oblige. “Shall we go?”
“Yes.”
I put cash on the bill that’s lying next to my elbow on the table. I’m reaching for the bag from the market when my phone chimes with an incoming call. I know the custom ringtone, even though I don’t hear it very often.
“I need to take this.” At Evelyn’s nod, I unlock the screen and accept the call. “Hi, Mom. Everything okay?”
“Oh, honey.” My mother’s voice sounds breathless and strained. “I’m sorry to bother you, but your brothers are all at work or I would’ve called them first.”
I glance at Evelyn, who’s staring at me in quiet concern. “What’s going on, Mom?”
“It’s your father. He fell in the bedroom just now.” She exhales, and it comes out as a sob. “I tried to help him up, but I’m not strong enough. And you know how he feels about calling the paramedics—”
“It’s okay. I’ll be there.” Evelyn is on her feet alongside me while I talk. We collect our things and start heading out of the restaurant at an urgent pace. “I’m leaving right now, Mom. I’ll get there as fast as I can.”
~ ~ ~
The thirty-minute drive to Bayside takes less thantwenty.
Maybe I should have insisted that Evelyn stay behind at my apartment, but I feel better with her beside me. Not only because her well-being is still my primary focus and concern, but for the simple fact that I want her with me. I need her.
We get out of my car and approach the front door of my parents’ mid-century brick Cape Cod house where my mother waits behind the screen door, watching for me to arrive. She’s petite, but she looks even more so today. The stress of my father’s stroke is wearing on her. I’m sure his explosive temper hasn’t helped the situation.
“Are you all right?” I ask my mother, after hastily introducing the two women who matter the most in my life. This isn’t the way I would have preferred for them to meet for the first time, but since when has my father ever made a damn thing easy for me? “Where is he?”
“In the master bedroom,” she says, her doe-brown eyes red-rimmed and weighted with puffy shadows beneath them. “I think he’s okay, but he can’t get up. Stubborn man. He just won’t listen to me when I tell him he has to take things easy.”
I squeeze her shoulder. “It’ll be fine, Mom. I’ll handle him.”
Evelyn gives me a reassuring nod. Leaving her to look after my mom, I pivot and stalk down the central hallway to look for my father.
I find him lying in a heap only a few paces away from his side of the old queen-size bed in the master bedroom. He’s always been a big man, solid muscles on a tall, substantial frame. Now all of his bulk is dead weight on the floor. No wonder Mom stood no chance of lifting him.
The old man knows I’m in the room, but he doesn’t even attempt to look up as I step inside. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I came to help.”
