Chapter 50
Fifty
Roman looks at his watch for the third time this morning. He swivels in the stool at Felicity’s kitchen bar, nibbling on the burnt toast she’s made him. I’m not sure Felicity cooks, but it was sweet of her to offer us breakfast before we take off this morning.
“I’m sure he’ll wake up,” I tell Roman, my hand on his wrist.
We leave in less than one hour. And while Felicity has assured Roman that Mason will naturally wake before we go, he’s anxious.
“I told you. He’s an early riser,” Felicity says.
Peter chomps down on his blackened toast. “Except that Roman completely wore him out this weekend.”
Felicity is unbothered. She’s always unbothered. She’d have to be to stay married to Peter Graves, who I am convinced is nothing like Roman. How did Roman grow up to be the man he is?
“Can we wake him, if we need to?” I ask.
“I don’t want to do that,” Roman says.
“He’ll want to say goodbye,” Felicity says with a wink. She’s sweet, and her winks might be growing on me. “You are his new partner in crime.” She grins.
Peter grunts.
“What?” Roman says. “You don’t like your sons getting along? Most parents would appreciate it.”
“You are half-brothers. You are more than two decades older than the boy.”
Roman tenses beside me. “Still my brother,” he says.
“Yes, well, we’ll see if you’re still his partner in crime in a few years.” Peter scrolls through his phone, not bothering to look at Roman. How can so much angst be inside one human?
“I will be as long as he wants me to be.” Roman turns to Felicity, not bothering to address his father. “I’d love to send you tickets to a game, if you and Mason wanted to come. I’m sure Dad’s busy with work.”
Peter smacks his phone on the table and stands, strutting to the breakfast bar where Roman and I sit. “You have no idea how exhausting a family can be,” he says.
And for the first time since we arrived, there is a glitch in Felicity’s smile.
“Then why have a family?” Roman asks him.
“Felicity wanted one. I gave in to her. But it’s tiring. You’ll understand one day.” Peter’s eyes flick to me for only a second. “If you last long enough.”
Roman pushes his stool out from beneath the counter.
The ends scrape along the tiled floor and the room goes silent.
“Don’t ever refer to my marriage as if you understand it,” he says, jaw clenched.
Then, beet-faced and hot, he turns his attention to Felicity.
“You really don’t mind if I wake him? I think we’d better go. I’d like to say goodbye now.”
Felicity swallows, her permanent grin and winks absent. “Sure. Go ahead.”
I follow Roman—not willing to stay behind in the kitchen with Peter and Felicity—but stand in the doorway as Roman sits on the edge of Mason’s bed.
“Hey, Mr. Crab,” he says, a hand on Mason’s back. “Stella and I have to go back home. Can you wake up and say goodbye?”
My heart hurts. For Peter’s idiocy. For Roman and Mason’s goodbye. For Brice. I miss him. And a great big part of me wants his advice when it comes to Roman. I am falling fast and hard for his best friend. What would he think about that now?
“Goodbye?” Mason says—his little voice full of confusion, as if he thought we might stay forever.
“Yeah. But I talked to your mom. She said you could come visit me and we can talk on the phone. You can tell me all the facts you know about crabs.”
Mason lifts one hand in the air, one finger protruding. “Crabs have ten legs. And ten claws. They—”
“Whoa. You better save some facts for when I call you tomorrow. Okay?” Roman smiles at the boy. But I see what he sees, the sorrow in Mason’s face. It mimics Roman’s.
“You could sleep on my bed,” Mason tells him. He scoots three inches to the side. “There’s room.”
“I’m sorry, Mase. I have to go home. But I’ll be back. Because we’re brothers.”
Mason grins and pats his hand to Roman’s forearm and the tattoo written in Brice’s handwriting. “Brothers,” he says.
“And Stella’s the best sister you could ask for.”
Mason’s eyes flick to me and he grins. “Okay.”
A tear falls down my cheek and I swat it away before either of them can see.
Mason stretches his little arms around Roman’s neck and hugs him goodbye. I watch as his clawed fingers pinch Roman’s hair. “I love you, big brother.”