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He steps aside while I close the door to the bedroom. I walk toward the stairs and I turn my head to look back as he stands there in his white t-shirt and gray sweats with a confused look on his face. “Let’s go,brother,” I say sarcastically, nudging my head in the direction of the stairs.
I can play fake with the best of them. If it gets me my freedom, and Tyler and his crew off my back, so be it.
Rubi
I WALK TOWARDthe dining table that can easily seat ten. The largest table I have ever sat at was at a table for four, and we had to take turns. I take a seat on the cream cushion of the wooden chair in front of Caroline. Mr. Murray is seated to her left, and Tyler is seated to my right like we are an actual family and have been doing this for years.
Mr. Murray eyes me curiously as I look at the perfectly dressed table with matching plates and serving dishes filled with fluffy, buttered mashed potatoes and meatloaf. There is even warm dinner rolls and whipped butter on the side, and an array of different options to drink: soda, lemonade, and ice water. After scanning the perfectly placed food, I look up at Caroline and notice she is nursing a glass of wine.
“After dinner, I’ll take you to get some things you need like I promised,” Stephen says as I push my chair forward.
“Okay,” I reply.
Tyler begins serving himself a hefty amount like he is eating for three instead of one. Mr. Murray goes next, and then Caroline. I stay frozen like a statue, unsure of what to do. I’ve never tasted meatloaf. The closest I have ever had was a Banquet frozen meal from the freezer, and it was the ninety-nine-cent kind you find at the Dollar Tree. The mashed potatoes I have eaten came from a box mixed with water and salt like the kind you get from a fast-food place. I never had the luxury of soda as I watch Mr. Murray pour a generous amount. This is all foreign to me, sitting here watching them eat and not worrying about if tomorrow they will have enough food.
I sit at the table and think about Emily, the six-year-old who is currently in a smelly house with barely enough food to eat, much less the luxury of different kinds of drinks.
“Rubiana, sweetheart. Is everything alright? I hope you like meatloaf and mashed potatoes?” Caroline asks in a soft, caring voice.
I blink back the sting of tears for the other kids who were left behind. I nod. “Yeah. I’m fine.” I give her a wry smile.
How could I sit here and eat this glorious food when others little kids are going hungry? Kids I tried to protect but couldn’t.
“Do you not like meatloaf?”
I swallow and look at the swirls of steam coming out of meat that looks so tender and delicious you can cut it with a fork. The scent of the flavors hitting me all at once causes my stomach to protest.
“I-I have never had meatloaf before.”
“Oh. I should have asked if you liked meatloaf before I made it,” she says, giving Mr. Ray a worried look.
I’m thankful she cooked a nice meal. It’s more than anyone has ever done for me, and I do not want to seem like I’m ungrateful for her hospitality. So with my plate in hand, I serve myself a slice of meatloaf I know will taste amazing. I do the same with the mashed potatoes and grab a dinner roll. My mouth watering before I’ve even had a bite.
I give her a smile when I cut a piece and briefly close my eyes to savor the taste of a delicious, home-cooked meal. “It’s very good. Thank you, Caroline.”
Her lips lift in a warm smile as she takes a sip out of the glass of red wine. Mr. Murray gives me an appreciative nod. I didn’t say that to be fake. It really is good.
“So what happened to your shirt today?” Mr. Murray says.
Tyler stiffens at his question, but I remain quiet. I plan on keeping my word as long as Tyler keeps his.
Tyler clears his throat. “She had an accident and ruined her hoodie and school shirt. The office was nice enough to give her a shirt from the lost and found.”
Stephen looks taken aback, and maybe a little guilty for the way he treated me when he walked in. He automatically assumed I was already causing him trouble and hanging out with random boys. If he only knew his friends’ kids are the trouble. Tyler gives his parents the impression he is an All-American kid by playing football. Bright future.
“Oh, that makes sense, but how did you get home?”
Before I can answer, Tyler speaks up. “Abby.”
“That’s great. See, Stephen. I knew she would get along with Tyler’s friends. Abby is a great girl. I wonder why she didn’t come inside to say hi. She always does, but anyway, she must have been busy with practice. Her brother Chris is a big softy when it comes to Abby. Oh, did you meet Ky?”
I stiffen when she mentions Ky’s name. Tyler senses me tense and looks at me from the corner of his eye, and then at his mom.
“Yeah, they met,” Tyler says quietly.
I’m sure they are wondering why Tyler is answering every question for me.
“He can be a little rough around the edges, but once you get to know him, he really is a nice guy underneath. Loyal to a fault.”
