At dinner on Sunday, Roman finishes at a record pace, and is almost ecstatic when Lucy spills hers all over herself, forcing him to change her.
But now they’re getting ready to play a board game and he knows it’s inevitable. Danica sets up everything in the living room while him and his mom stand side by side, cleaning the dishes together. He’s a foot taller than her so it’s easy for him to see the gray streaks poking out through her bun.
His eyes volley between scrubbing the porcelain dish with extra attention and gauging her mood. They had parmesan-crusted chicken with pasta, and he was determined to get the cheese off.
From the corner of his eye, he watches as she squints at a piece of food stuck to the plate, bearing down on the sponge to get it out.
“Hey, is your professor going to let you make up the exam?”
He blows out a breath, clearing his throat and focusing on a glass dish next.
“Oh, I was able to take it.”
The scrubbing to his right ceases. She turns to face him, a breathless laugh escaping her.
“Okay,” she says, drawing out the word, wiping the back of her hand against her forehead. She turns back to the dishes, grabbing a Tupperware container, creasing the plastic as she works the grease from it.
“I didn’t know your sister was free.”
“It wasn’t Danica,” he says as he grabs a paper towel to dry his hands with.
He scratches the back of his neck before adjusting the collar of his shirt. “It was a … friend.”
She blinks, her arms raising in question. “A friend … what friend? Do I know them?”
He avoids her eyes as he grabs another dish, drying slowly. “No, Mom.”
She drops the container, wiping suds on her jeans. She turns to face him, arms crossed over her chest. “Roman Alexander Hayes, have you lost your mind?”
“Mom,” he says through a laugh in an attempt to diffuse the tension, “come on, it’s not that big of a deal. I was in a bind. You couldn’t watch her, and neither could Dan. My teaching assistant offered. It was only for two hours,” he says before meeting her eyes.
All the blood drains from his face when he sees her pursed lips and narrowed eyes.
“Your teaching assistant, Roman?”
“She offered,” he says, abashedly. “I needed to take the exam. What’s the big deal. Everything worked out. I thought you’d be happy about this?”
“What’s the big deal? My granddaughter was watched by a stranger. What if something had happened?”
“Jahlani isn’t astranger,” he grumbles, shoulders sagging.
“Oh, so now she has a name.”
Roman’s jaw clenches as he works through several deep breaths.
She scoffs, hands rising to the air before they slap down to her sides. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
At this, he freezes, his shoulders tense. He turns to face her. “What isthatsupposed to mean?”
She opens her mouth and closes it before pacing the enclosed space. She stops a few feet away from him. “I mean, the bar, college, the money, the bills. What are you doing?”
He snorts derisively. “Being a bad parent, apparently.”
“Roman—”
“No, that’s it, isn’t it? I’m not doing enough for Lucy. I’m making all the wrong choices. I work a low-paying job, and I don’t have my degree because I’m a fuck up, right, Mom? I’m a disappointment?”
She lets out a soap-opera level gasp and lowers herself into the dining room chair with a hand to her mouth.
