Mom and Dad.
I haven’t seen them since June, and for a moment, I forget everything. The secrets. The manipulations. The collusion.
They are here. Right in front of me. In real life.
The bike screeches to a halt. “Mom… Dad.” Before I know it, I’m off the seat and setting the kickstand. I rush to them, and they — wide-eyed with excitement and surprise — open their arms. At once, the three of us are tangled in a group hug, Mom’s neroli and rosewater scent and Dad’s mix of Brut and Right Guard filling my head with nostalgia. The silk of Mom’s blouse and the scrape of Dad’s cheek are touchstones of home and safety.
I pull back from the embrace just enough to turn to Drew, eager to beckon him forward to meet my parents. And then I remember.
And I stiffen. Because his eyes are on Tori who is standing behind us, scowling at him. And although his expression is perfectly neutral, his gaze giving nothing away, I can see past it. He’s thinking about his last encounter with her, one that I still don’t know the details about, but I’m sure wasn’t at all pleasant.
Then the realization of exactlywhyMom and Dad are here dawns. Gently, not wanting to hurt their feelings even now, I pull free of their arms and step backward to Drew. With intention, I reach for his hand, and to my relief, he clasps mine.
I clear my throat. “Mom and Dad, this is Drew.” They don’t know I’m in love with him. They don’t know what’s passed between us. They don’t know how alive he makes me feel. How with him, I am enough. All they know is what Tori has told them and the arguments Mom and I have had when I defended him. But I want to give them a chance to let me take the lead here. And let them make the right choice.
I see the exact moment when they don’t. They both stare at him for about two seconds and then their eyes cut to each other. Before they look back at me, the tacit agreement that passes between them might as well be plastered to a highway billboard it’s so obvious.
“Is this your boyfriend, Evangeline?” Dad asks. My stomach drops. Dad never,never,uses my whole name. I’m alwaysEvieor justEwith Dad. I also note the impersonal pronoun.This.Isthisyour boyfriend. Nothe.As if Drew isn’t a person, but a thing.
I pull in a deep breath, marshalling my strength while also stalling for a moment. Because what am I supposed to say?IsDrew my boyfriend? I sure as hell want him to be, but we basically just had our first date. If brunch at Tribe even was a date. If I say that he is, will he think I’m crazy? Like some deranged octopus trying to wrap my tentacles around him when we just spent one night together? One awesome, beautiful, and groundbreaking night? And if I say he isn’t, will he think I’m denying him?
The thought is like a sheetrock knife jabbed into my heart and jerked downward. Pain forces the words from me.
“We’re seeing each other,” I say, squeezing Drew’s hand. He’s silent beside me, but he squeezes back, and the relief that surges through me nearly makes my knees buckle. But I push on, wanting to make it plain how things are going to be. “Drew, this is my mom, Sondra, and my dad, Elliot.”
I’m holding his left hand, and to my surprise, Drew extends his right. “Mr. and Mrs. Lalonde,” he says, in greeting. “Nice to meet you.”
For one terrifying moment, I’m not sure if my dad is going to accept his hand, but he does, thank God. I would have never forgiven him if he hadn’t, and maybe that showed on my face. I don’t know. It all happened too fast, but after Dad shakes Drew’s hand, Mom pumps it twice, a tight smile on her face.
“My grandmother says you’ve always been good neighbors,” Drew says, surprising me again. “But especially after my Grandpa Pete died. Thank you for that.”
A tremor passes over both of my parents. Mom fast blinks and Dad shifts his weight on his feet, as if the invocation of Drew’s grandparents has reminded them how unneighborly they are being now. And I want to kiss Drew. He’s being polite and making an effort when my parents obviously aren’t, and it’s suddenly clear to me that for the first time in my life, someone is on my side.
Until a few weeks ago, I didn’t know there even were sides in my family. And it was a painful and gut-wrenching realization to discover there are. Especially knowing that the two factions are so unbalanced: three to one. Even as we’ve stood here, Tori has stepped closer to my parents as though closing ranks with them.
But with Drew beside me, I’m no longer quite so outnumbered. And for that I love him all the more.
And I suddenly feel stronger. “What are you guys doing here?” I don’t really have to ask. What’s passed for family communication since I moved out has mostly revolved around my parents defending themselves, Tori continuing to blame me for upsetting them, and everyone pushing me to move back home. I know that my parents’ sudden arrival is probably just an effort to take all that to the next level.
Dad attempts to answer first. “We thought it was important to come see you, given…” his focus moves to Drew and then to the front of Janine’s house, “what’s been going on—”
“What Daddy’s trying to say, Evie, is that we’re worried about you. Aren’t we, honey?” Mom looks to my dad and then back at me before he can answer. “And we wanted to talk about plans to maybe… you know… smooth things out.”
I frown.Plans?
I shake my head. “Look, all is forgiven. You don’t need to worry about me because I’m doing fine,” I tell them, meeting the gaze of Mom, Dad, and Tori in turn. “And the only thing I think needs to be smoothed out is the rotten hand you dealt Tori—”
“Evie,”Mom scolds, bristling just as my Dad warns, “Hey, now,” and puffs out his chest. Tori’s eyes widen in surprise, and I wonder suddenly if she’s felt like the lines of demarcation are also three against one, but with her on the losing side. With the way things have turned out for her, I couldn’t exactly blame her.
Beside me, Drew has gone very still. I glance at him to see his signature stoic blankness, but subtle things — things only someone who has touched him, spent hours looking at him would notice — catch my eye. The slight tightness around his jaw and in the sinews of his neck. The way his nostrils flair just a little. The half-step he’s taken toward — and just barely in front of — me.
And I know, the way I’ve known since the moment I met him, I am safe with Drew Moroux, and he will defend me. No matter what. No matter who threatens. No matter if they wield words. Or scorn. Or weapons. He will shield me. Body and soul.
I become a woman-sized sun. Love and gratitude must blaze from my every particle. I squeeze Drew’s hand so tight, hoping he can feel it. Feel what his allegiance means to me.
I look at my parents — at the way they are looking at him — and I know I would do the same to protect him. They are not going to insult him or diminish him. Not on my watch.
But this love, so warm and radiant, makes it easy to be patient. I don’t want my family to be the enemy. They are making mistake after mistake, but I meant what I said. All is forgiven. We just need to work past this.