Page 5 of Roses, Pearls, and Hot Summer Nights
My brain practically twitched with ideas already—if such a thing were possible. I planned to hand draw some things, and I loved the process.
He stared as if waiting for me to say something more. I blinked twice, taking a sip of the water before I could force myself to speak. “I’m an only child.”
“Right.” He nodded, as though it didn’t surprise him. “But you live with your aunt right now, and you plan to spend the summer with my granny?”
I shrugged. “Unless she changes her mind.”
“She won’t. Once she sets on a path, it’s nearly impossible to get her off it.” The waiter approached, so Julian ordered sparkling water with lime and baked ziti.
The waiter, a tall, dark-haired man, nodded fast as he scribbled on his pad. “So, the usual then?”
“Right.” Julian smiled but he didn’t take his eyes off me. “Best in the city.”
I might have been fooled by his behavior before. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t quite as naive anymore. In San Francisco, I thought I was making friends. After my experiences there, I knew the Julians of the world played with people like me, but they didn’t mean anything by it. They knew how to fake attention, and they might act like they cared, but they neveractuallycared.
They were trained from birth, after all.
Aloud, I said, “Pepperoni pizza for me, please, and I’ll just stick with water.”
The waiter nodded but didn’t otherwise comment then left. After a second, Julian leaned forward. “You are the least talkative dinner date I’ve ever had. Are you shy or rude?”
I wanted to giggle, but I only let my lips quirk for a second. In general, I refused to laugh in public, only giving in to temptation when I was alone.
“I don’t think I’m either, actually.” I sipped my water, buying time to find the right words. “You didn’t really have to take me out, but you did because you wanted to get to know me. Because of that, I understand that this is basically an audition to see if I’m safe enough to spend time with your grandmother. Go ahead, ask your questions. I’ll answer to the best of my ability, and then you never have to be around me again.”
The waiter delivered his seltzer and paused, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Hey Julian, I heard you made captain for water polo this year. Congratulations.”
I blinked in surprise. The twenty-something waiter knew about high school teams?They really must be rich.Maybe billionaire rich.
Julian dragged his blue gaze to the waiter. “That’s right. Jeremy and I decided to share it.” He glanced back at me, adding, “Jeremy’s my twin brother.”
I nodded, again a little surprised. I honestly didn’t expect him to share so much personal information.If we’d kept a score card, I would be kicking his ass.
“Well, I hope you guys win it all.” The waiter nodded then walked away.
I ground my teeth together, realizing we’d reached the part of the conversation where, if we were equals, I could ask him about Jeremy. I wasn’t deluded enough to fall for the illusion, though. I recognized it as an interview rather than him actually trying to get to know me, so I waited.
Finally, he asked, “So, why do you live with your aunt?”
I cleared my throat before answering. “Five years ago, my mom—my aunt’s twin—died. Since they stayed out of touch for a long time, I didn’t know my mother’s family then. Still, the authorities found them, so I went to live with my uncle—her older brother—in San Francisco. After three years, we decided it wasn’t working out, so I moved in with my aunt. She’s also older—they were four kids, too— and she lives in Chicago. In the long run, it didn’t work out either.” Things were so much worse with her, but I would never admit it to him. “Now I’m living with my aunt, my mom’s twin sister, but only until I can get my grades up. Eventually, she wants to send me to boarding school overseas somewhere, where I imagine I’ll stay until I turn eighteen.”
He blinked before lowering his gaze. “That’s a lot of moving.” He sipped his drink but continued to stare at me. “Why doesn’t it work out?”
I shrugged, not surprised by his question. “I can’t say for sure, but I think they don’t like me because they didn’t like my mom. No one wants to be accused of not trying to do the right thing, but I am a constant reminder of a person they simply didn’t like.” I held up my hand before he could try to say something nice or placating. “But, despite that, I’m no danger toyour granny. Honestly, it will be nice for me to have someone to talk to for a few hours every day. I won’t do anything that might put her in any danger or in a situation that might harm her in any way. I have no criminal history.” I ticked the items off on my fingertips even though I’d already told him that. Unwanted poor relations were often viewed as criminals by their more affluent family members—a lesson I learned the hard way in Chicago. “I’m unwanted but not bad.”
I swallowed, fiddling with my napkin to hide my fidgety fingers. I couldn’t believe I dared utter the phrase aloud, so I kept talking quicky. “I’ll do whatever she wants, then otherwise I’ll stay out of everyone’s hair.”
He sat up, crossing his arms, brows furrowing in thought. “I’ve had no inkling whatsoever that you might be any kind of criminal, I’m just trying to make you out. Sure, you’re not wrong. I’m curious for Granny, because we’re a close, private, family. Every last one of us adores her more than anything. Besides that, though, you’re different, and I never see anything different. All I ever see is more of the same.”
I didn’t say anything, but then again, why would I? I wasn’t going to pretend to believe his interest would last very long, since experience taught me it absolutely wouldn’t. It seemed smarter to just answer his questions then be rid of him.
But then he said something that utterly shocked me speechless. “I’m sorry your mom died, Alatheia. That had to have been awful. It must still be. I can’t even really imagine it, if I’m honest. I love my mom. She’s incredible, so I know it would kill something inside of me if she suddenly died.”
Before I’d stayed quiet by choice, but suddenly, I wasn’t sure I could find my voice if I tried.When was the last time anyone said they were sorry because my mother died?
I swallowed again, the feeling of suppressed tears abruptly threatening a headache, but I couldn’t swallow my thoughts.Has anyone said it since the police officer found me wandering down the streets looking for help because I couldn’t wake up my mother?
Finally, I found my voice. “Thank you.”
