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Nodding slowly, I settle back in my seat.
As everyone turns to their meals, I watch Roman fall back into his silent, angry ways and something pricks at my mind. He’s not used to being served or taken care of.
Not like this.
“Didn’t your mama serve you dinner?” I ask quietly, leaning toward him. I know Roman’s mama died when he was young, but surely, he has to remember a time when he was taken care of. “Maybe your Grammy?” My Grammy Jean would often take care of me when Mama and Daddy couldn’t.
Roman’s eyes snap up to mine. His mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes out. His shoulders bunch up high then drop down low. He looks…he looks sad.
I immediately want to take it back. Before I can, Isaac jumps in like the peacekeeper he is.
“Roman didn’t get much time with his mama before the Lord took her, Evie,” he says softly, patting the back of my hand. “Not everyone is blessed with women as wonderful as you and Jane, you know?”
I try to swallow, but my mouth is suddenly so dry I end up coughing. I grab my glass of milk and take a big gulp, calming my lungs so I can respond.
“I know, sir,” I agree. And I do know. My friend Katie at school doesn’t have a mama or a daddy. It’s just her and her Aunty Nina. I look to Roman, wishing I could jump up and give him a big hug. Wishing I could promise he’ll never know that kind of pain again. “I’m sorry, Ro.”
He ignores me, shoving his potatoes around his plate. The table falls quiet. Questions bounce around my mind. Questions I know I have no right to ask.
Mama must see it on my face. She knows I’m inquisitive. Knows I can’t just let things rest—try as I might.
She squeezes Isaac’s free hand. “Maybe it’s time, hm? Maybe it’ll help some. Bring us together.”
Isaac shoots a sad look at Roman who’s sunken impossibly further into his wooden chair. It’s like he wants to disappear. Completely the opposite of his son, my stepdad rolls his shoulders back, sits up tall and nods.
“I grew up in a tiny town in Florida. Smaller than this one. Camilla, Roman’s mom—she was my high school sweetheart. We fell in love, and even though we were young, God blessed us with Roman.”
I think I might imagine it, but I could swear I hear Roman huff a quiet laugh under his breath. Isaac goes on like he didn’t hear a thing.
“But Cami—” He breaks off, swallowing thickly. Mama jumps to her feet and stands behind him, massaging his shoulders in encouragement. Isaac pats her hand and gives her an adoring look. My stomach flips. I hope someone looks at me like that someday. “Cami had a hard life before we met. A hard childhood. Her family—” He shakes his head. “Let’s just say, they weren't like this one.”
“What were they like?” I ask, unable to bite my tongue.
Mama shoots me a disapproving look. “Do not interrupt, Evelyn Jean.”
I roll my lips between my teeth and nod solemnly.
Isaac’s lip tips up in the corner. “It’s okay, Jane.” He presses a kiss to her fingertips. “Cami’s family drank and—they did bad things.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Which is ultimately what took Cami’s life.”
A loud screech sounds from the opposite side of the table and my head snaps, just in time to see Roman stomp away toward his room. The kitchen fills with thick tension that confuses me.
I’m sure Roman is sad. I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear about his mama dying. Especially if it was in such a way. I know I don’t like hearing about the months and months Daddy suffered from cancer before the Lord finally granted him peace.
But Isaac doesn’t seem to agree. He moves to stand up, his face red and angry. Luckily, Mama whispers something in his ear, calming him down before he and Ro can get into it.
Again.
They argue sometimes. Mama says it’s because Roman’s a teenager and that’s what teenage boys do. Isaac says it’s because Ro is lost.
Personally, I just think no one’s taken the time to understand him. Something I’m trying to do. If he’ll let me.
Isaac exhales roughly and drops into his chair. It takes him a few moments to get back into the story, but when he does, Mama’s in her chair and Roman’s tucked away in his room, probably laying on his window seat with a book in hand. I, on the other hand, am leaning forward in my chair, eager to know everything I can about our new family.
“Cami struggled. She didn’t take to being Roman’s mom very easily. He had colic.” I give him a questioning look, and he smiles sadly. “It means he was a sick baby and cried a lot. We didn’t have much support or money. We needed a new start. It was hard for us and we made mistakes. We drank. We partied. It wasn’t a good time for us, Evie.”
He bites his lips as his eyes close tightly. Mama sniffles, dabbing her cheeks with a floral hanky, and my heart sinks.
“I wanted to start over. Wanted a new life for my family. A life away from everything bad. Everything ugly. When Roman was four, I packed all our belongings in the tiny station wagon I’d saved up for and promised them both something better.”
