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“Not a one of them spoke English or even the same language when they were adopted.”
“Sounds challenging.”
I snort. “You have no idea. But they made it work.”
We head to the head of the table, where Momma and Leland stand to welcome Sandesh.
Much to my surprise, he greets them coolly. Still some anger there, which makes me wonder if Bridget was right. Should I be asking him if he’s okay with what the family does? WhatIdo?
Sandesh grins as I pull out a chair for him, then he takes the seat. Tony and Bridget sit across from him and Bella’s directly to his left. I sit on his other side.
The moment I do, he leans all his beautiful, blond self toward me. My heart approves by doing ayeehaw!high kick, followed by ahot-damnjig in my chest. This man.
“Is it rude of me to ask—”
I lean in closer, inhale. “I sure hope so.”
He laughs and brushes the hair from my bare shoulder. It’s an intimate gesture that has me instantly uncomfortable, though he seems unaware of it. Unaware of the fact that we are in a circle of two, and, for me, that never happens.
He waves at the large dining table with its usual mix of loud and louder, and finally gets around to asking his question. “How do you keep everyone straight?”
I smile, because, not twenty minutes ago, I called one of my siblings by the wrong name. “Sometimes, it can get confusing with my older siblings. Especially since many aren’t living at home and have branched off into diverse careers in Parish Global Industries. But, mostly, it’s like keeping your extended family’s names straight.”
He doesn’t look convinced. “Even my extended family doesn’t include thirty people.” He takes a sip of water from a gold-ringed, crystal goblet. “What about getting to know them all?”
“Yeah. That’s harder than remembering names. Dinners help. We have huge family dinners regularly.”
His eyes grow wide and disbelieving. “This isn’t a huge dinner?”
Snort. He’s so cute. “No. This is regular dinner. It’s expected for each member of a unit, if in the area, to show up once a week to these dinners.”
“Unit? You said that had to do with your age, not when you were adopted, right?”
I like that he’s so interested in this and, apparently, so does Momma, who I can see paying attention to our conversation. “Yep. It’s an age range.”
He looks around the room. “Sounds like a lot of planning goes into it.”
He’s wondering how someone gets the golden ticket. I have no idea. “Momma plans everything.” I wink at her, and she rolls her eyes. “Which is why she rarely adopts a child into a unit that already has five members.” Actually,neveris a more accurate description, but I’m laying out hope for Cee. “Kids in the same unit share a bathroom, share a floor, and share a tutor.” Share covert training.
“Gracie’s a year older than you, so she was in your unit? Who else?” He knows who else, but he’s asking so we can engage with the people across the table. I get that without him telling me.
“There’s Dada.” I look around. Gracie never comes, but where’s Dada? “Hey, Tone.” He looks up from talking to Bridget. “Where’s Dada?”
“Sick.”
Again?
I’ll delve into that later. I point at Tony to include him in my discussion with Sandesh. “Dada is the oldest in my class at thirty-six. Since she’s not here, the next oldest is Tony at thirty-four. Say hi, old man.”
Tony’s eyes sweep over Sandesh. For a moment, I’m sure he’s about to say something embarrassing. Like,Dude, she’s using you.I transmit a warning to him through slit-serious eyes.
Tony smiles, nods at Sandesh. “Hey.”
Sandesh acknowledges him with a return nod.
No humiliation yet.Phew. I wave at Bridget, who’s next to Tony. “Bridget’s the middle kid at thirty-three. And our local yogi.” Who apparently has super mind powers.
Bridget waves back, but doesn’t engage him. Neither does Tony. Unusual, since they are both friendly and big talkers normally.
