Page 31 of Dear Adam
“Do with that as you please,” I tell her. “I saw nothing.” I bend to give her a quick scratch under her chin then run back upstairs.
Conveniently, the only seat open at the table is beside Hudson. In an instant, he’s up and pulling out my chair for me, but he won’t even look at me. He’s clearly faking being hurt. I know he is because he keeps doing this annoying forced sigh thing then looking toward the ceiling wistfully.
“Thank you, Hudson,” I say as politely as I can muster.
“Well,” Dad says, clearing his throat. “Let’s take care of the elephant in the room, shall we?”
He’s staring so intently at me, I expect laser beams to shoot out of his eyes at any second. Mom’s sitting beside him, her lips pursed so tightly, I’m concerned about the circulation of them.
“Hudson. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you at dinner last night and not told you what I was doing. That was incredibly selfish of me, and I hope you forgive me,” I say in a rush, trying my hand at sighing and looking as wistful as possible. I think I do a pretty good job.
Hudson meets Dad’s gaze before speaking up. “I’m not going to lie, Aly. What you did was incredibly hurtful. I sat there for an hour before I had our waitress go check on you, only to realize you weren’t even there.” His voice cracks with fake grief, and it's enough to make me want to hurl.
“An hour?” I screech. “You were going to let me suffer for an entire hour before you had someone come check on me?”
“You said you were having lady issues!” Hudson retorts, and my mom gasps and covers her mouth with a perfectly manicured hand. I bite my lower lip to keep from chuckling at that. I really had said that, hadn’t I? “I drove by your house last night to check on you and…” He drops his gaze to the table for a beat, as if summoning the courage to continue. “Do you know how it felt to see that?” he whispers. He shoots mom and dad a look too, just to make sure they’re fully engrained at this point.
Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.
“What? What did you see?” Dad presses.
“A clown car, that’s what,” Hudson answers smugly, all traces of sadness gone. It’s a side of him I’ve never seen, and that’s when it hits me. I’m not sure how I didn’t see this coming. Hudson has absolutely no interest in me as a person, only a relationship with me so he can climb the ranks in Dad’s company. His voice drips with ice as he continues. “A clown car that belongs to some contractor who thought he could make it in California but apparently can’t.”
Hudson has declared war.
“His business is doing just fine, for the record. And how dare you creep around my house late at night, you weirdo!” I shoot back.
“Did you have a boy over last night, Alyson?” Mom asks, horrified. I look between Mom and Dad, knowing there’s no way out of this one.
“It was late when I drove by, too,” Hudson smirks. He knows exactly what to say to make a southern momma madder than a hornet.
Before she can say anything else, I ask, “Why were you driving past my house late at night? Doesn’t anyone else think that’s weird?”
“I wanted to check on you! I picked up ice cream and chocolate for you because I thought it might help your, you know…lady problems.” Hudson’s eyes glimmer in a way I’ve never seen, and I’m honestly a little creeped out.
“He wanted to check on you, Alyson! Where are your manners?” Mom asks.
“My manners?” I ask, incredulously. “He sent back every wine glass they brought him for a smudge that wasn’t even there. He ordered the spaghetti squash for me and proceeded to order himself a steak. He tried to make me feel guilty for eating garlic bread!”
“That’s enough, Alyson!” Dad booms, his fist slamming into the table so hard, the silverware jumps.
While I would love nothing more to defend myself and tell everyone the rest of the story from my point of view, it would be no use. Even if they listened—which they wouldn’t—my words would go in one ear and out the other. Hudson can do no wrong in my parent’s eyes. On the other hand, I can do nothingright.
Beneath the table, I clench my fists so tightly, I’m sure my nails are biting crescent moons into my palms.
“We are so sorry, Hudson,” Mom says. “We’re not sure what’s gotten into our daughter. I would presume it has something to do with Adam’s condition. I hope you can forgive her.”
“How dare you blame this on Adam? This ishisfault!” I point at Hudson.
Hudson turns to me now and his poor, scorned act is back. “I’m sorry you didn’t have a good time on our date, Aly. I’ll admit, I was too hard on the waitresses. I was so nervous, and I just wanted everything to be perfect. Really,Ishould be apologizing toyou.I’m so sorry, Aly.”
Oh, gag me with a spoon.
He reaches for my hands under the table, and if he notices my fists are clenched, he doesn’t say anything. “Please let me make it up to you. Go with me to the end of summer charity gala.”
The reminder makes my stomach drop.
Every year, my parents host an over-the-top charity gala. I try not to whine about it too much because they always raise quite a bit of money to donate to the children’s hospital. It’s the only thing that keeps me from thinking my parents are monsters. It’s a black-tie event that the wealthiest of Charleston’s residents attend every year. Women wear overpriced, fancy dresses with their hair teased to the heavens, men wear suits with tails, and everyone seems to be in competition for who has the most Benjamins in their wallet.
