“Roman.”
“Dan, I’m fine. He was drunk. Chill out.”
“Roman,” she says, giving him a pointed look. “You’rewaytoo forgiving.”
He inhales deeply, turning to grab a plate from the cabinet.
“How was she?” he asks, straightening the takeout menus before shoving them back in the nearest drawer.
Danica stretches her arms through a yawn. “Same ol’, same ol’, asking for some loser named Dad. Oh wait, that’s you.”
He gives a noncommittal ‘hmm’ through a mouthful of cold cheese as he simultaneously presses the bag of ice to his eye.
“I don’t know why, though. You’re kind of lame.”
Brushing crumbs from his face and hands, he flicks her off before moving to sink into the seat next to her. Her laptop is open with a Word document.
“What are you working on?” he asks, nodding to the screen.
She sits upright, dragging the laptop between the two of them.
“I have to do a comparative analysis on two political thinkers on a specific topic, think liberty, equality, sovereignty, political obligation. So, of course, I’ve decided to focus on Simone de Beauvoir and Mary Wollstonecraft. Do you know who they are?”
He blinks. “Uh?—”
Danica’s lip curls upward, and she shakes her head. “You’re an embarrassment to the family name.Simone de Beauvoir,” she says rather sassily, “was an existentialist philosopher. Those are philosophers who feel that the nature of the human condition is a key philosophical problem. Her work focused on women’s oppression. Women are seen as ‘the other.’ Wollstonecraft, the mother of Mary Shelley—a.k.a the author ofFrankenstein—predates Beauvoir. She focuses on empowering and uplifting women through education. Women are just as rational as men when given the opportunity to do so, and a woman’s femininity is socially conditioned.”
Roman blows out a breath, nodding. “Sounds interesting, Dan. Have you decided which topic to focus on?”
She purses her lips. “Not sure. Either a critique of patriarchy or gender norms.”
His mind wanders to Jahlani’s words from the other night.You’re all the same.He wonders for a moment if she’s right. The light tapping of Danica’s computer keys slides through the air as he takes sips from his drink.
“Hey, can I ask you a question?”
“You just did.”
“Is Mom … happy?”
Her fingers stop typing and a tentative smile appears on her face. “What?”
“Do you think Mom is happy?”
Danica snorts. “Fuck, I don’t know. I mean, you gave her a grandbaby.”
He shrugs, swirling the drink in his hands, continuing to press the ice to his face. “Yeah, but not the right way.”
Her eyebrow arches. “The right way?”
He leans his head against the couch, blowing out a breath. “You know what I mean.”
“No, Ireallydon’t. Please elaborate,” she says, closing her laptop before turning to face him fully, chin in her hand, expectantly.
Roman suddenly feels embarrassed, but he knows his sister. If he lies, she’ll see right through it. If he withholds, she’ll pester him until he’s six feet under. He shrugs, scratching the back of his head.
“You know, boy meets girl, they fall in love, she comes over for the holidays, Mom loves her, they marry, they have kids. Not my version.”
She tilts her head, deliberating. “But your version is so much more …fun. Romantic, even. Think about it. Accidental-pregnancy trope becomes a single dad and an almost-college dropout working at a bar to support their kid. It has flair,” she says, making jazz hands.
