“Which one? Don’t say Tilla, she’s my favorite!”
“The Amazon—and you’re not supposed to be following the fighters. Mater’ll hand your hide to the tanners.”
Oppia rolled her eyes. “Youfollow the fights.”
“Only to patch up the gladiators after.”
“Ah, Felix, you’re home,” Mater’s cheery voice greeted from behind as she stepped into the apartment and closed the door behind her.
“Mater!” Oppia squealed, rushing to greet her with an enthusiastic hug that rivaled the one she’d bestowed on Felix.
He turned, box in hand, preparing a lecture he shouldn’t have to give to the woman who’d raised him.
Mater tugged herpallafrom her fading brown hair and handed it to Oppia, then turned a smile on Felix. “You look tired, love. You need to sleep more.”
He nearly laughed at the absurdity of it.Him, sleep more? How could he, when so much needed to be done? “This money is for the creditors, Mater, not any person with a sad tale.”
“Your pater will take care of the creditors. He always has.”
She couldn’t possibly be so naive. “No one’s heard from him in months. He disappeared with a loan worth a year’s wages and no word.”
“Give him time.”
“He’s done nothing but make poor investments, time and again. This plumbing venture is no different than every other failed attempt—or maybe it is. Because this time he went too far and decided to cut his losses and abandon us.”
“He’s not abandoned us. His letter said...” Mater didn’t continue. Couldn’t. The letter had said very little, and even less that might suggest anything hopeful. Her lips trembled. “He would never leave us like that. Have a bit of faith—”
“I have faith, Mater. Just not in him.” Felix bit his lip at the sharpness of his words. Apparently, going too far ran in the family. Desperation made even good men consider terrible things. And do them. He’d been desperate enough to crawl back to the ludus, after all.
Felix sighed. “We can’t wait around for a miracle. No bags of coin are going to appear in our shoes overnight, no matter what the stories say about saints and desperate people. And I’m not willing to let all of you starve even if Pater didn’t care what straits he left us in.”
Mater’s expression shuttered. “He didn’t—”
Anger rushed through him. “Hedid. He did, and I’m left to clean up his mess and try to keep us afloat.” He regretted the harshness of his words as soon as he spoke them.
“Do not speak of him like that.” Tears swelled and hung on her bottom lashes as she pressed her lips together.
He let out a deflating breath and set the box on the table, braced his hands on the edge. How could his mother cling to the goodness of his pater after all he’d done? He’d all but ruined and abandoned the family, and yet, if he showed up at the door, Felix had no doubt Mater would welcome him with open arms. Was it possible for a person to betooforgiving?
As if to prove his point, Mater wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gave a squeeze. “What’s done is done, Felix. It’s your choice now what you do with it.”
“I’m already doing everything I can.” And it wouldn’t make an iota of difference if she didn’t stop handing out everysestercehe brought home. She was nearly as bad at money management as Pater.
“That isn’t what I meant.”
He sighed, too tired to untangle her meaning.
She patted his shoulder and straightened. “But I’m glad you’re home, anyway. Tulla Aemilus has a terrible flare-up of gout. Poor thing can hardly walk down the stairs.”
Felix tried to rub away the ache beginning to throb in his temple. “She needs a plaster of mallow root boiled in wine—”
“Excellent. Will you go see her? She’s on the third floor.”
“Can she pay?”
Mater blew out an exasperated breath. “God has blessed you with all this education and you want to charge for it?”
“Mater—”
