Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
ALLY
“Damn,” Drew mutters when his phone pings with a text. It’s Wednesday evening, and we’ve just finished dinner and turned on the TV.
“Do you have to go in to work?” It’s not his usual call night, but he’s covering for a colleague.
“No,” he says, scowling at his phone.
There’s a beat of silence as I wait for him to tell me more, but he doesn’t. He’s seemed distracted all evening, like something’s eating him. I almost ask him what’s wrong, but decide he’d tell me if he wanted me to know.
“Do you still want to watch something?” I ask instead.
Drew shakes his head. “My sister’s here,” he says with a sigh.
“What? Now?”
“Yeah, with my niece. They’ve just parked. Breanna says Charlotte needs help with her math homework, and they took a chance I’d be home.”
“Ah. And you’re not in the mood to do math?” This, I can understand.
“It’s not that,” he says. “But ever since Breanna saw us together, she’s been nagging me for details about you. I’ve pretty much shut her down, for obvious reasons.” He rakes a hand through his hair in frustration. “And Breanna’s pretty good at math.”
“Oh.” It makes sense now. He thinks Breanna’s really here to nag him for information, and he resents being manipulated.
My eyes sweep the condo, noting the three pairs of my shoes on the rack by the door, and my purple throw blanket on the couch.
I remember that the bathroom off the hall is full of my toiletries, and it’s the one guests would use.
If I’d had some notice, I’d have put my stuff away, but if they’ve already parked, there’s no way I’ll have time.
“They’ll know I’m living here,” I say slowly.
“Most likely, yeah,” Drew says with a shrug of resignation. “It’s fine, Ally. We have nothing to hide.”
He’s right, of course. We’re both single adults, and our living arrangements are no one’s business but our own.
But even though he said we have nothing to hide, Drew’s clearly not pleased that his sister’s here.
His phone rings, and he taps at the screen. “I’ve buzzed them up.”
A moment later there’s a knock at the door, and Drew opens it.
“Hey, Uncle Drew!” Drew’s niece greets him with a smile that shows the braces on her teeth. She’s got her mother’s dark hair and eyes, and she looks like she’s around twelve or thirteen.
“Hey, Charlotte,” Drew says, pulling her in for a hug. “Hi, Breanna.” The look he gives his sister is a cooler than the one he gave his niece.
“Hey,” Breanna says. “Hi, Ally. Sorry, Drew, I didn’t know you had Ally over.”
“Right,” he says dryly. “Charlotte, this is my girlfriend Ally. Ally, my niece Charlotte.”
“Nice to meet you, Ally,” Charlotte says. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Oh, really?” Drew asks, cutting a glance to Breanna. “Like what?”
“Mom said you seemed really nice,” Charlotte tells me. “She also said you were beautiful, which was interesting, because she’s always telling me that looks aren’t important—”
“Charlotte!” Breanna interrupts. A blush creeps up her neck, and now Drew looks amused.
“Your mother’s right, Charlotte,” I put in.
“Ally is beautiful,” Drew says with a nod.
“That’s not what I meant,” I say quickly, and now I’m blushing too. “She’s right that looks aren’t that important.” I’m young enough to remember how miserable being a teenage girl can be. I elbow Drew in the ribs, and he picks up the cue.
“That’s true,” he says. “The first thing I noticed about Ally was her brain.”
Charlotte looks skeptical. “Was she, like, your patient or something?”
Drew chokes on a laugh. “Um, no. But she . . .” he pauses for a moment, and my heart sinks.
“She gets my humor,” he finally says. “A lot of people don’t realize when I’m trying to make a joke, but Ally does. And she’s a lot of fun to argue with.” He catches my eye, and I realize he’s serious.
“Huh,” Charlotte says thoughtfully. “What do you argue about?”
“Nothing that important,” Drew says. “That’s why it’s fun. Anyway, Charlotte, I heard you wanted to do some math?”
“Yeah, my class is doing the Gauss contest next week,” Charlotte says. “You know the University of Waterloo one? I have a book of practice problems, but some are really hard.” She slips a purple backpack off her shoulders and pulls out a book.
“Well, sit down then,” Drew says, gesturing to the dining table. “You too, Breanna. You can help.”
Breanna frowns. “Drew, I’ve been doing those problems all week. I’ll chat with Ally.”
Drew looks at me to confirm I’m okay with that.
“Sounds good to me,” I say. At least it means I won’t get roped into helping with math.
Breanna leads me across the living room to the pair of armchairs by the window. As she settles into her chair, her eyes catch on the rolled up yoga mat that’s resting against the wall. It’s mine, of course, and she knows it.
“So, Ally,” she says. I half expect her to ask if I’ve moved in with her brother, but she takes a softer approach. “Are you into yoga?”
“Mostly Pilates. I tried yoga a few times, but I could never really get into it.”
“Yeah, the first time I tried yoga I was bored out of my skull after about five minutes,” Breanna says with a grin. “But a few years ago I was having back pain, so I tried it again and now I love it. If you ever want to come, I can bring a friend for free twice a month.”
“Thanks,” I reply. “I’ll think about it.”
“I’ve been trying to convince Drew to try yoga, but so far he’s been a hard no,” Breanna continues. “But if you were going, he might change his mind.”
“I doubt it,” I say with a chuckle. “He doesn’t seem like the yoga type.”
“He’s not, but I bet you could persuade him.”
“I don’t know about that.” It’s clear Breanna thinks her brother and I are serious, and I feel guilty for deceiving her. I’m tempted to come clean, and confess that Drew and I have a three month arrangement that arose from a misunderstanding.
“I bet you could,” Breanna repeats. “He’s different when he’s with you.”
“Different how?”
She pauses to think about it. “More relaxed, maybe? Not that relaxed, because then he wouldn’t be Drew, but . . . lighter somehow.”
I’m too surprised to reply right away, and I wonder if she could be right. Then I remember that Breanna’s seen me with Drew exactly twice: for a few minutes at a coffee shop, and then briefly again tonight. Any changes she noticed in her brother are likely coincidental.
“How did you guys meet?” she asks. “I’ve asked him, but he refuses to tell me.”
“I was his admin assistant.”
“That’s amazing!” Breanna says with a laugh. “And very romantic, because Drew’s, like, the last person I’d have expected to date his admin assistant. He must have fallen hard.”
I hardly know what to say to that. It doesn’t matter, though, because Drew’s walking over to us.
“I have to go in to the hospital,” he says apologetically.
Breanna frowns. “I thought Tuesday was your call night?”
“It is,” he explains. “But I said I’d cover a colleague tonight. It’s his fifteenth wedding anniversary, and he forgot until a couple days ago. So—”
“So you couldn’t say no,” Breanna says, as though she’s not surprised. She turns to me. “Drew can’t really help himself, he has this need to rescue people—”
“I just traded a call shift, Breanna,” Drew says, sounding irritated. “You make it sound like it’s some sort of character flaw.”
“Sorry,” Breanna says. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Okay,” Drew says. “I told Charlotte I could come over Sunday afternoon to do some more math problems, if that works for you.”
“That would be great,” Breanna says. “Thanks, Drew. Before I forget, I’m thinking of taking Charlotte to Calgary in August, to see Dad. Any chance you and Ally want to come?”
Drew’s eyebrows draw together. “I don’t think I’ll be able to get the time off.”
“You work too much, Drew,” Breanna says with a frown. “What do you think, Ally?”
“Oh, I agree. He works way too much.”
Breanna laughs. “No, I mean what do you think about a trip to Calgary in August? If Drew could swing it with work? You could meet our dad and stepmom.”
Hmmm. I think that since my relationship with Drew will end in August, it wouldn’t make sense for me to fly across the country on a meet the family trip. I’m racking my brain for how to answer Breanna when Drew steps in.
“Come on, Bree,” Drew says. “Ally and I have barely been together a month. It’s way too soon to pressure her to fly to Calgary.”
He’s absolutely right. I shouldn’t go to Calgary, and his answer shouldn’t sting, but for some reason it does.
Breanna and Charlotte leave with Drew. I change into workout clothes and unroll my yoga mat, hoping a workout will improve my mood.
I’m irritated about the Calgary discussion, but I’m also irritated with myself for caring about it.
I’ve known all along that regardless of how real our relationship seems, it has an end date.
I pick a video from my favorite YouTube Pilates channel, and when I finish that, I start another. Partway through the second video, I hear Drew’s key in the door.
I stand and stop the Pilates video. “That was quick.”
“Yeah, it was just an EVD in the unit,” he says, walking over to sit on the couch. “The resident had everything prepped, we did it bedside.”
I blink at him, because I don’t have a clue what he just said. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” he says, running a hand through his hair. I can tell something’s distracting him, because he’s usually careful not to use medical jargon with me.
He takes in my workout clothes. “You were working out?”
“Yep. I’m done though.”
Drew nods, sighs, and runs his hand through his hair again. “I’ve arranged to see a doctor in Toronto. About the tremor.”
He says it casually, like it’s a throwaway comment, but I’m not fooled. This is what’s been eating him. I wonder when he set this up, and when he’s going, and why he’s telling me now.
“Oh,” I reply. “I think that’s smart. You’ll get some reassurance.” I’ve managed to convince myself that since I haven’t noticed a tremor, there can’t be anything seriously wrong with him.
“That’s the hope,” he says dryly. “Anyway, a neurologist I know is going to see me Saturday morning, as a favor. He’s arranged for me to have an MRI, then he’ll do an exam.”
“Saturday . . . like, in three days’ time?”
“Yeah.” He stares down at the floor. “I wondered if you’d come to Toronto with me.”
“Me?” I blurt.
“Yeah. The hospital’s right next to the Eaton Center, so you could go shopping, and we could go for lunch after. Make a day of it.”
It takes me a minute to process it. Of all the people he could have asked to go with him, he asked me?
This seems like a role for a close relative or a best friend.
A long-term girlfriend, maybe, but not a girl you’re pretending to date for three months.
Or even a girl you’re sleeping with on a casual, time-limited basis.
“It’s fine if you’re busy,” he says, when I don’t answer right away.
“I’m not busy,” I interrupt. “But . . . wouldn’t you rather take someone else, like your sister, or—”
“I haven’t told Breanna about it,” he interrupts. “It would stress her out. I don’t want to worry her unless there’s actually something to worry about.”
“Ah.” Maybe that’s why he asked me; I’m not close to him like Breanna is. If the news is bad, I won’t be crushed like Breanna would be.
In theory, anyway.
“You can think about it,” he says.
“No, I’ll come,” I tell him. “Of course I’ll come with you, if you’re sure you want me to.”
His shoulders relax a little. “I’m sure.”
“Okay.”
Rather than dwell on the possible outcomes of the appointment in Toronto, I try to focus on practical matters.
The first problem is that when I told Drew I wasn’t busy on Saturday, I’d forgotten about Hayley’s graduation.
I’ll miss the ceremony in the morning, and I should probably bail on the dinner, too.
If Drew gets bad news, I won’t want to have to rush back to Somerset for a family dinner.
I haven’t told Drew about Hayley’s graduation, and I’m definitely not going to mention it now. If I did, he’d tell me not to come to Toronto with him, and I want to be there.
So when I get home from work on Thursday, I gather my courage and call my mother.
“Hi, Ally,” she answers. She sounds happy to hear from me, and I feel guilty that I don’t call more often. “How are you?”
“Fine,” I say, then mentally kick myself. “I mean, overall I’m okay, but right now I have some sort of flu.”
It’s the best excuse I can think of. My family still doesn’t know about Drew, and even if they did, I couldn’t tell them about the appointment on Saturday.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” my mother says. “Is there anything you need? I could bring over some soup—”
“No, I’m fine,” I interrupt quickly. Now I feel really guilty for lying. And also guilty that I haven’t told my mother I’m no longer living in the basement apartment north of Duke Street. The last thing I need is for her to show up there with soup.
“I mean, I’m coping okay,” I say carefully. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to come to Hayley’s graduation ceremony on Saturday. Or to the dinner.”
“Oh. That’s disappointing,” my mother says. “You don’t think you might be better by then?”
“I might be a bit better, but I’ll probably still be contagious,” I say. I’m tempted to fake a coughing fit, but I’ve never been a great actress.
“I see,” my mother says slowly. “I know it’s hard for you, Ally, but—”
“What do you mean, Mom?”
There’s a little pause before my mother speaks. “Hayley makes things look easy, and I’m sure it’s hard to watch. Between school, and Justin—”
“What?”
“Hayley thought you were jealous of Justin when you came for dinner,” my mother says gently. “Something about the way you were staring at him. I thought she was reading too much into it, but . . .”
What the hell? I was staring at Justin because he was staring at me. At my breasts, specifically. The idea that I’d be jealous of Hayley for dating a jackass like Justin is laughable.
And if I don’t laugh about this, I might cry. Or bang my head against the wall.
“I’m not jealous of Justin, Mom,” I tell her. “Or jealous of Hayley for dating Justin. It never crossed my mind.”
“That’s good to hear, honey,” Mom says, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me. “So if you’re feeling better, maybe we’ll see you Saturday?”
“I’m sick, Mom!” I say in frustration.
Since I’m not actually sick, I have no right to the moral high ground, but I still resent the fact that she’s skeptical. Under different circumstances, I’d tell Drew about this, and make a joke about asking him for a doctor’s note.
“I hope you feel better soon, Ally.” My mother sounds resigned now. “I’ll tell Hayley you’re sorry to miss it.”
“Thanks, Mom.”