Page 55 of Romeo
“Okay,this is thebestbeef tips and mashed potatoes I’ve ever had.And I’m not just saying that.Don’t tell my mom.”
I laugh and take another bite.“It turned out pretty good.”
“Um, I think the words you’re looking for are delicious and fantastic.Thank you for cooking.”
“No problem.Seemed only fair.You did cook for me the other night.”
“I’m happy to do it again.Especially if that means you’ll cook for me.It’s a solid trade in my opinion.”
With every word he speaks to me, Riley manages to make me feel less and less worthless.
“How’s your stomach feeling?”he asks.
“Like I got stabbed a couple of days ago,” I admit with a half-smile.Truthfully, I’m exhausted and would love nothing more than to shower and go straight to bed.Of course, I still have to change the sheets on my bed and the guest bed since it’s been two weeks without anyone in here cleaning.
“You need to take it easy,” he says, expression morphing to one of concern.“Don’t tear it open, or Lani will never let me hear the end of it.”
“She does seem like she runs the roost.”
“Has ever since she came to live with us.”Riley chuckles.
“What do you mean, came to live with you?”
“My parents adopted Lani when she was two.”
It’s news to me as they don’t treat her like anything but blood.“Really?”
He nods.“Her parents abandoned her, so she came to live with us.Honestly, though, it feels like she’s always been a part of our lives.Like those years before they adopted her never really existed.”
“That’s so sweet.”A knot forms in my chest.Why couldn’t Odie love me like that?Why can’t he talk about me with such love?
“She’s great.”
“She is the only doctor I actually like.”
“Bad luck in the past?’
“Oh, if you only knew the half of it.”I start to stand, but Riley shakes his head and pushes to his feet.
“Nope.I’m on kitchen cleanup.You stay right there.”
“Riley, I can?—”
“Nope.Do you want some tea?I grabbed some chamomile when we were at the store.”
Even when my grandfather was alive, he rarely cleaned up, cooked, or offered to make me tea.I know he loved me, but he was always so wrapped up in his own thoughts that it never really crossed his mind.And to be fair, even if he had offered, I still would have refused.It was my job to take care of him.
My joy to cater to the man who made it his mission to see me survive.
“Uh, sure.Thanks.”
“No problem.Kettle?”
“Bottom cabinet.Left side of the stove.”
“Got it.”He turns and retrieves the kettle, adds some water, and places it on the stove.Then he goes to work cleaning up the kitchen.The man literally hums as he works, a soft tune that both relaxes and intrigues me.
Who is this guy?And why does he seem to care if I live?It’s not like Odie is going to pay him now—oh, who’s going to pay him?
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