Chapter 26
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
Gianna
“We’re here,” Drake says, making a right turn onto a gravel driveway. Tall pine trees line the road, shielding the house beyond it from the noise and nosiness of traffic. “This is home.”
A two-story white house comes into view. Whiskey barrels and a swing adorn the front porch, the swing swaying in the gentle night breeze. I can imagine curling up there on lazy weekend mornings with a cup of coffee and a book. It’s so peaceful.
Drake and I talked all the way here. We ate trash burgers from a drive-thru and traded stories about our lives.
He’s lived such a life full of people, places, and memories.
I could listen to him share things for hours.
It’s fascinating because most of it, I can’t relate to.
We didn’t have family dinners or homemade chicken noodle soup when we were sick, and my dad certainly didn’t teach me to drive on backroads heading to the fishing hole when I was twelve.
But now we’re here, and the confidence I had when we left my house an hour ago must’ve fallen out of the car a few miles back. Because all I can think of now is that I’m way in over my head.
“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. ”
“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?”