Chapter 25
Cusps
…a week later
If Drake didn't answer the phone and talk to Emme's mother himself, he would have
thought that he was being lied to again. But Mrs. Watson would not lie especially about
her daughter having a slight non-fever cold so could they postpone their movie date? Of
course, Drake wasn't going to be angry he wasn't void of feelings. And he knew how
dangerous it could be if her cold turned into a fever. He almost fucking died that night.
But Mrs. Watson said it was okay for Emme to have visitors and maybe a surprise visit
would mask the disappointment that they couldn't go to the Premiere.
Emme could not believe the gall of her mother.
How could she think to even call Drake without notifying her about it and to top it off he
was on his way upstairs.
Why was it that her mother didn't care about her feelings?
She was just done with the clipping of the white gold scarf pin. This one was in the
shape of a flower after she wrapped the deep amethyst colored Hermes silk scarf as
tight as she could stand it.
Emme didn't have time to breathe as Drake knocked on her door two seconds later.
That was too close for her comfort.
"Come in." she stayed seated at her desk. It was easier than to get up.
Emme could feel her throat turn into the Sahara, but she knew she had to start really
talking to Drake and she could do so right from the safety of her perfect little white
wicker desk.
Drake didn't know what he was walking into so he just reduced it all to one word, "Hey."
"Hi." She put her hand on the handle of her Mason-Pearson hairbrush and squeezed it
tight.
"How are you?"
"Peachy."
Man, there was nothing wrong with her memory. Was it going to be more verbal lashing
ping-pong? Did everything have to be tit for tat with this woman?
"If you can mouth off then you must be feeling all right."
"I wasn't mouthing off."
"What would you call it, Miss Priss?" he decided to sit down on the mahogany trunk that
by the foot of her bed.
"Are you thirsty, Drake?"
"Not right now. When will you relax and take off your headscarf?" Drake didn't wear his
knit cap all the time. Well he was at this very moment because he was cold himself, but
not because he wanted to hide his appearance in front of her.
"I need a cup of tea, but Mom will come up here and bring it. She has a mini fridge in
her room, I'll just take something out of there."
"Okay."
Why would she make such a big deal out of getting a drink? And Drake also noticed
how she didn't answer his question about her headscarf.
Her room was too white, Drake thought. It was too sterile and sanitary like a hospital.
Despite the no-doubt designer furnishings (some pink) and splashes of floral patterns.
Drake was convinced that she was not going to come back. After all there were plenty
of places in this huge house to hide in. He was surprised however that she came back
with not one but two bottles of Evian spring water.
"You'll need it later, Don Juanoma."
"Thanks. I'm sorry to hear that you have a cold."
"It's just a small one and mother worries too much." She sat back at her private desk
oasis.
She wasn't pushing him away nor was she running away, but Emme was definitely
keeping her distance. He could see if they were on the bed, but come on.
"Mothers will do that." Drake felt like he was a million miles away. Her room was about
the size of the whole second floor of his house. Or at least it seemed that big.
"Do you want to bake a cake?"
"What?"
Talk about going off base and being completely random, but Drake was too curious to
question this as Emme went into a small closet that was by the one small decorative
octagon shaped window.
"Do you want to bake a cake?" She took out an old box with tattered edges from 1993
that contained one pink Easy Bake oven and stood between the safety of her desk
island spot and the chest that Drake was sitting on not saying a word.
"Okay."
He had to take the bait, didn't he?
"Come over here. I don't want to get the bed dirty."
That could be taken in a million different ways.
"Okay." His needle was stuck in the groove.
The last time he played "bake a cake" he was five years old and he helped make a
horrendous vanilla concoction before agreeing to play "doctor" with the neighbor
doctor's daughter, Heather Glazer. Audrey gave him a lecture that he didn't understand
until his puberty glands started to kick in and he was never allowed to play with little
Heather again. Heather was sent off to Flintridge Sacred Heart Academy in the La
Canada-Flintridge area.
Drake slightly smiled wondering what Emme's reaction would be if he suggested that
they play "doctor" after baking this cake?
"There's only one flavor left." Emme handed Drake the envelope of powered chocolate
mix.
"How do you know that light bulb still works?"
"I have to plug it in."
So, they were going to make a kiddie cake? Drake did go to the toy store last year and
purchased a potato launcher because it tossed potatoes over fifty feet and he did use
the emergency food money when Audrey and Walter went to Los Angeles for a
weekend to buy talking Mexican robot.
Somehow this seemed very different. He wasn't hiding behind it. He just wanted to do
the typical mischievous boy stuff. Just like making armpit noises and grossing out the
kids in the Honor Society.
Emme was still hiding. She wasn't fooling anyone, least of all Drake.
What could Drake do? At least for once Emme Jessica Watson was trying with him. If
she wanted to take out a childhood toy and use it so they wouldn't have to interact who
was he to really judge? But how was she going to handle going to the movies with him?
He mixed the watery mix with a long bobby pin. If this was what she wanted to then he
had to respect her choice. Megan was trying to find out information on her, but it was
much more difficult than breaking into Belleview High's computer system into the
student records area to get a copy of Mindy's transcripts. Miss Emme was too straight-
laced. They knew thanks to that video that she was a cheerleader who took part in that
San Diego school wide anti-drug program.
Megan said she might know someone whose sibling (thanks to a divorce custody
situation) also went to St. Patrick's. Maybe, it wasn't important, but Drake was never so
happy to see a parent interrupt his time with a pretty albeit hiding girl. Mrs. Watson
came in with a tray of healthy snacks and was curiously shocked to see them playing
with the Easy Bake Oven. Drake raised his eyebrow in a shared shock.
This was not my idea.
I'd rather have been caught in her bed.
At least that's normal.
And I do—
"I thought you kids might be hungry." She set the tray down on her daughter's desk.
"Thanks, Mom."
"What are you doing?"
"Baking a cake." The time was up and Emme handed Drake the plastic pink
pan pusher.
"I get to do the honors?"
It looked like a fifth grade lab experiment. That cake if one could call it that, had a
horrible gray cast to it.
"I hope you don't think I'm going to let you two eat that."
If they didn't have cancer, eating that cake probably would have given it to them.
"I know, Mom. Bye."
Wow. Very forthright.
Forthright?
I'm definitely spending too much time listening to Josh watch Oprah.
"Okay. Drake your Mom called she said Josh will be picking you up in an hour."
Thanks, Mom for treating me not only like an invalid but a child as well.
I know Josh is going to pick me up.
Next time place an ad on the Jumbotron at the San Diego Mega Dome.
"Thanks, Mrs. Watson."
Drake stood up. He needed to stretch his legs.
"This cake is gross."
But she didn't want to throw it away. She hoped her Mom would let her freeze it. And if
she couldn't use the freezer in the kitchen maybe she could use the big deep freeze that
was in the finished laundry room.
"I'm glad that you can admit that." Emme unplugged the oven before joining Drake at
her desk.
"I hope you like orange slices there seem to be a lot of them."
"Yeah, I do. They're so orangey."
"Take a napkin."
Cloth. Just like the fancy-schmancy restaurants that Walter was required to take Audrey
to for their special occasion date nights. The rich, no matter how nice (well at least Mrs.
Watson was), they really did live differently.
Although Audrey had a special set of sky blue cloth napkins that they used on holidays
along with the silver ring napkin holders that belonged to Drake's Grandmother. He was
surprised that Audrey didn't break them out when she served Mrs. Watson her special
catalogue tea.
Drake ate an orange slice, it was definitely more quenching than the few sips of water
he had. He figured he had to bite the bullet. If Emme threw the plate at him at least it'd
be an honest emotion.
"Emme, do you really want to go the movies with me? If you don't want to, that's okay,
and you don't have to worry about me being angry with you."
She almost dropped her orange slice in the white cloth napkin.
What was he saying? Did he want to not go through with their date after all?
For once instead of just running away and making things worse Emme decided since
Drake was standing right in front of her to just ask him.
"Are you saying you don't want to go through with the date, after all?"
"No. That's not what I'm saying, but I'm glad you asked me."
"So, what are you saying?"
"I'm just making sure that this is something that you really want to do."
"Yes, it is."
"Good," Drake smiled, "Your Mother certainly brought up a lot of orange slices."
"We have a few orange and lemon trees."
Drake looked at his watch, "I'm hoping my brother will get lost in traffic. So what do we
do now, Miss Priss?"
He certainly hoped it wasn't going to be another trip to the bygone closet for a rousing
round of Chutes and Ladders.
"We could play—no. Would you like to go for a walk and see Peanut Butter Cup?"
"Who is Peanut Butter Cup?"
"My horse."
"Is your mother going to let you go outside? It is a little chilly today."
Emme opened up the overnight bag she had to keep packed just incase she needed to
go the hospital on short notice.
"It's no problem, Drake. I have a sweater." It was the perfect shade of the Pacific Ocean
that matched her eyes.
You'd have my arms too if you'd let me hold you.
All you have to do is say the word..
And you'll be free.
"Then yes, Emme, I would love to go for a walk and see your horse."
Emme smiled as she took Drake by the hand. She had to start making things right and
today seemed as good and right as any other day.
"Where are you two going?" Mrs. Watson asked carrying the mail when they came
downstairs, she noticed the handholding but didn't say a word. These poor kids were
probably embarrassed enough.
"Drake and I are going for a walk to see Peanut Butter Cup. Is that okay, Mom? I'm
wearing my sweater."
"It's fine. Have fun."
They were on the cusp of something. Making this day one of the happiest of Drake
Parker's life. He wasn't inside her bra or her panties and she wasn't offering to suck his
penis like Pamela McGraw did in the ninth grade because she wanted to go the Zero
Gravity concert with him.
It wasn't about anything sexual. It was shaping up to be one of the best days in all his
seventeen years.
"I'm holding your hand, Miss Priss." Drake said as they picked a place to stand and
watch the ten-year-old horse eat from his pile of hay.
Let's see if you can remember this.
The two young people were on the cusp of their relationship and the only direction to go
was forward.
"Yes, you are, Don Juanoma. And I'm not letting go."
Do you really mean it this time?
Yes. Holy shit. I believe that you do.
You're still holding on for dear life.
"Drake," Emme continued
"Yeah?"
"I really do mean it this time."
"I know you do," He smiled at the prospect of the unknown, "I know you do."