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Ma tosses the pasta into a bowl, and I carry the salad to the table. Noel is sitting beside Ma’s chair at the head with Taron between her and Sawyer. Deacon sits to Ma’s left, leaving me across from Mr. Impossible.
We say a quick grace, and then it’s a free for all as the salad is passed followed by the pasta and the sauce, the fresh-ground parmesan, the bread. I try not to steal glances at Sawyer and fail. I used to feel like I knew him so well, but now I have no idea what’s going on in his head.
“Ma didn’t tell me you all were coming over.” I pass the marinara to him, hoping to break the tension.
“I didn’t know until an hour ago.” His voice is low and irritated.
“Sounds like you guys need to start talking to each other more,” Noel quips from the other end of the table.
“Is something wrong with Sawyer?” Ma checks in from whatever planet she’s been on. “Is everything okay down there?”
He looks up and actually smiles at her. “I’m good, Miss J. Dinner’s delicious.”
She nods and returns to fawning over her new favorite visitor. “So Deacon, what should I do with my bees?”
Deacon’s blazer hangs on the chair behind him, and when he props an elbow on the table, I can’t help noticing his biceps… even if his table manners aren’t so great.
“What are your goals?” Ma makes a confused face, and Deacon continues, “Try thinking about the next year, the next two years, then the next five and write down what you want to happen.”
Ma pauses with her fork between her plate and her mouth. “Well, I don’t know exactly. I guess I’ve never thought about it.”
Deacon pops a piece of bread in his mouth. “That’s okay. Just start brainstorming and when you’re ready, we can talk about it.” He bumps my arm. “Hey, good work on the pasta.”
I laugh and push his arm. “Elbows off the table.”
“Winnie would be so ashamed.” He grins at me, and I stab my lettuce, my eyes flickering to Sawyer.
He’s holding his fork over
his plate watching us. My eyebrows rise, and I think put a ring on it as I swirl a fresh bite of pasta and lift it to my mouth.
“Deacon just helped me write my five-year plan.” Noel holds a napkin over her mouth as she speaks. “He thinks it’s important for women to be financially independent.”
“Is there a reason for that?” Taron winks at him.
“Prettier clients.” Deacon grins, taking a big bite of pasta.
“That is not true,” I argue, pushing his arm. “He really feels strongly about it. Tell them.”
His brow furrows, and he finishes his bite before speaking. “We all know or have heard about a woman who gets married young, dedicates her life to her kids and family, then her husband dies, and she’s left with nothing.”
Ma shakes her head, lifting a hand to the heavens. “Thank the Lord Mr. Ray prepared for the worst.”
I lean closer to Deacon. “Benjamin had the Benjamins.”
He nods, continuing. “Not all women, but many shelve their dreams and financial security for marriage or family. I want to be sure they’re protected… and happy.”
“I agree with you.” Sawyer’s quiet assent surprises me, but he’s studying the glass of wine in front of him, not looking at us.
“That’s very noble of you.” Noel adds. “Were you raised by a single mom?”
“Single dad, actually, but money was never a problem at our house.” He almost seems embarrassed to admit it.
“Deacon takes care of his great-aunt Winnie,” I tell them, and Ma puts a hand on her chest.
“Are you close with your aunt?”
“Not very. No.” The words come out on a bitter laugh, and my ma is confused.
