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Rose went still. She could smell the pizza without even turning around. Mike had gotten them food. Her stomach growled loud enough Mike definitely heard it.
“Wow, you’ve really gotten a lot done in here. I think we can actually eat at the table.”
Rose turned her face just enough that she could see him place the pizza on the table next to one of her growing piles. It was in a large, white box and by the looks of it, there was enough to feed at least four people.
Mike pulled out a chair, though he didn’t smile. “Do you still hate mushrooms?”
“What?”
“When we were kids.” Mike cleared his throat as he took his seat. “You hated mushrooms. It would always make you mad when Ethan requested that they put them on half of the pizza because?—”
“Because they always dropped some on the other half,” she murmured quietly.
They were a room apart, but she could almost see the corners of his mouth quirking upward. No, that was just wishful thinking. Even if he was hiding a smile, it would only be because he was making fun of her for being picky. From what she remembered, he liked mushrooms just as much as her brother.
“You didn’t realize I noticed that sort of thing, admit it.”
Rose turned her back to him and stared at the empty cupboard she was currently wiping down. “Does that matter?”
“I guess not.” He was quiet for a moment then the sound of his chair screeching against the tiled floor broke the silence. “You never answered me.”
“About what?”
“Mushrooms.”
“Yeah. I still hate them,” she muttered. Once again her stomach growled, and she was forced to decide if sitting across the table from Mike was worth the food he’d bought. She couldn’t deny how thoughtful it was for him to think of her when ordering. But she wasn’t going to tell him that.
“Well? Are you going to come eat? I can’t scarf down this whole thing by myself.” The edge to his voice returned, as did her own irritation. If she wasn’t starving, she might have ignored him out of principle. Unfortunately, her gurgling stomach had a different plan in mind.
Rose sighed, tossing the rag on the countertop nearby and jumped down from the chair. Stopping at the sink to wash her hands, she gave him a look over her shoulder. She started to tell him to wash his hands, too, but she decided to stay quiet. She wasn’t his keeper.
Wishing they’d eat outside, she pushed the thought aside to hurry up and then get back to work. She pulled the chair she’d been standing in over, but put as much distance between the two of them as she could while still being able to reach the pizza. She grabbed a slice and took a bite.
Mike glanced around the room as if he hadn’t already commented on the progress she’d made. His thoughtful expression caught her off guard the most and she nearly asked him what he was thinking about.
Instead, she took a big bite of her pizza and refused to look at him, their last conversation still causing that burning in her chest.
“The kitchen looks really good. I’m actually impressed that you were able to organize everything into these piles.”
Rose glanced in his direction, finding him staring at her. There was a more genuine feel to his voice this time and she had a hard time not believing he meant every word.
“It wasn’t all that bad. Most of it was garbage. Otis clearly ate a lot of microwave dinners and takeout after your grandmother passed away. He just let the trash build up.” She shrugged and a smile tugged at her lips. “With the way he flattened all the cardboard boxes, it was almost like he was planning on building something with them.”
Mike’s soft features hardened slightly, but not with anger. His focus darted around the room once more. “I should have been here. I should have come home after my grandmother passed.”
“It’s not your fault.” Rose gestured to the house in general. “Your grandfather was an adult. He was more than capable of taking care of himself.”
He shook his head. “You can’t say that after spending so much time in the kitchen. This place is a disaster. It gets to a point where people need help.” Mike rolled his shoulders back and stretched his neck. “I should have known better. Every time I called to check in, he acted like everything was fine. But I should have noticed it in his voice. He needed help.”
Rose’s heart shattered at the sound of Mike’s despair. He was hurting. Never in all their years of knowing one another had she seen this side of him. “You know better than anyone that your grandfather was a proud man. He would have never admitted he needed help. I would guess that he didn’t sound like he was struggling, either. That’s the kind of generation he was brought up in.”
“That’s just it, though. He raised me. I knew he would lie about this sort of thing. All it would have taken was one trip home for me to see that he needed someone.”
Every word Mike said tore at Rose even more. She couldn’t force him to accept that this wasn’t his responsibility any more than she could convince Ethan to let her handle her own mistakes. It was like the two men were ingrained with the same kind of code. They wanted to be there for their family and would shoulder all the responsibility no matter how detrimental it was.
There was nothing she could do to help. Clearly, he didn’t want it. Maybe all he needed was for her to listen.
“After my mother passed away, when it was just the three of us—my grandpa, my grandma, and me—we were really struggling to pay for the medical bills.” Mike’s eyes flitted to meet hers, so full of disappointment in himself. “The cost for the funeral also loomed over us. Times were… tough.” He sat back in his seat and wiped his mouth with a napkin. The focus in his eyes grew distant. “He was having a hard time making ends meet. I don’t even know how he managed to put food on the table.”
