Page 40 of Promise Me Nothing
Keeping my father the fuck away from me as often as possible.
I relax my shoulders and step towards my mother, squeezing her hand even if she’s upset with my actions. As frustrating as she can be, I hate when the things I say or do cause her stress.
As much as the things she does can irritate me sometimes, I owe my entire life to her. My brother and I were adopted when we were babies. He was one and I was a newborn. A perfect little family for Mr. and Mrs. Calloway.
But my father never lets me forget it.
I’m a charity case to him. A pawn he can try to manipulate in whatever way he thinks works to his advantage. My brother might have been easily played by him back when we were younger and significantly more naïve, but not me.
I always make sure Calvin Calloway knows that his wealth doesn’t mean shit to me.
I turn away from them and head back towards the auction, keeping a carefully neutral expression on my face. Part of me hates myself for playing into that. Because as much as I spout at my father, I still don’t make a scene, even though it’s what he deserves.
Maybe someday, I’ll manage to find the nerve to react exactly how I want. Be angry. Yell. Throw something.
And I hope on that day, my father is there to see it.
CHAPTER NINE
Hannah
Ivy and I wander into the gallery and peruse some of the cheaper items that are more in a somewhat realistic price range.
Emphasis onsomewhat.
That’s how we find Lucas as we round the back of a table in the far corner of the room.
When he spots Ivy at my side, he gives her a huge smile before turning to me.
“I see you’ve met Ivy Calloway.”
“Yeah, do you two know each other?” I ask. Then my eyes widen, and I turn to look at her.
Your last name is Calloway? You’re related to the guy that was on stage?
Ivy rolls her eyes.Only by blood. Not by choice.
I laugh, loving her sassiness. Then I look back at Lucas.
“You can sign?” he asks, his face in some expression I don’t understand.
I nod. “Yeah. My old roommate’s daughter was deaf, so I learned as she learned. As she grew older.”
Then I turn to Ivy.He wants to know why I’m super awesome and can have secret conversations with you.
Ivy giggles.That’s the one thing that’s great about being deaf. I wish my mom didn’t know how to do it so I could talk to my brothers without her knowing what we’re talking about.
We both laugh.
“See, I always feel like she’s talking about me,” he says, then sees my hands are moving. “Are you talking to her while I’m talking?”
“No,” I say, continuing to sign. “I’m signing what you’re saying so she isn’t left out of the conversation.”
I look to Ivy, about to ask her if she wants to grab something to drink – wine for me and something nonalcoholic for her – when I see that her eyes have gotten glassy.
Are you okay?I ask, concern racing through my body.
She nods, giving me a watery smile.Yeah.
