"I pretended I wasn't interested in him whenever Aunt Charlotte talked about him. but I would like to know more about him," he said. "I know I should hate him more than I could hate anyone. but I can't help wondering about him."
"I couldn't help loving him. I still love him. He was probably the most charming manI'll ever meet. but I can't deny being hurt and disappointed by what he's done, for Mommy as much as for myself. Maybe more than for myself," I added.
Evan stared at me and then, after a deep breath. said, "The reason I thought you wouldn't care to spend so much time with me is I thought you were so pretty, you surely had a string of boyfriends calling on you and would if you came here to live as well."
"Well, thank you. but I don't have a string of boyfriends."
"You won a beauty contest, didn't you?" he asked.
"No. I didn't win. I was first runner-up. Wait a minute." I said with my hands on my hips. "'How did you know about that?"
"Aunt Charlotte told me. She had a detective."
"A detective? I thought she just had some attorneys doing some inquiries. A real detective?"
"Philip Marlowe himself," Evan joked. "I don't know, some retired policeman. I think. That must have been some beautiful girl to beat you.'
"I'm not that beautiful. Evan."
"Can we promise each other that we won't lie to each other about the obvious at least. Rose? I'm crippled and you're pretty enough to be in the movies and that's that."
It was my turn to smile.
"She was related to the owner of the company," I revealed. He laughed.
"I knew it. Don't you have at least one boyfriend, someone you like?"
"I'm seeing someone nice at the moment, yes," I admitted. "I'd like you to meet him."
He studied me for a moment and then looked down.
"No, you wouldn't," he said. "You're just being nice. You probably don't want anyone to know about me," he added, reverting to that bitterness. "'There's no reason why you'd want anyone to know we're related."
"That's not true."
"My aunt promised your mother she'd keep it all secret. She told me."
"Well, it's embarrassing for her."
"And for you," he punched at me. "I'm just an embarrassment for everyone."
He spun his chair around and started pushing himself back toward the house.
I watched him for a moment and then shot forward and stopped him by putting my hands on his arms and leaning into him.
"Just a moment." I ordered.
"Let go. I got to get back to my room," he said. He glared at me, his eyes burning with anger and tears. He tried to thrust me aside. but I clung to his arms, weighing him and his wheelchair down so he couldn't move.
"No. You're going to stay here and listen. I'm not someone you can click off like you click people off on your computer."
"What?"
His face turned crimson with race right down to his neck. I was sure his tantrums and explosions of anger always got him what he wanted, but my feet were planted firmly.
"You're not going anywhere until you promise to stop this. I certainly don't want to move in here and live with you if you're going to be like this all the time."
"Like what?"