And then the questions.
Both things were related. The moment we sat down, Carl began grilling Rider. Caught off guard by the tactic, I only managed to cut into my slice of roast and eat a chunk of potato.
Rider also hadn’t touched most of his food, probably because Carl was apparently interviewing him. When there was a break in the Spanish Inquisition, Rider turned to me. “Are you going to eat?”
I nodded as I speared a potato. Rider watched until I actually ate the vegetable, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes only because I knew what drove him. Like the times at lunch, he always made sure I ate. It was hard to break the habit after years of sharing scraps and leftovers. I ate another potato and Rider spooned up chickpeas.
Cutting into the pot roast, I glanced up and across the table. Carl and Rosa were staring at us. Knowing they probably didn’t understand the exchange, I flushed.
“So you work at some kind of body shop?” Carl cleared his throat. A piece of perfectly cooked pot roast dangled from his fork. “Part-time?”
I closed my eyes.
“Yes, sir. At Razorback Garage. The owner calls me in to do custom paint jobs,” Rider answered patiently. He’d been patient throughout the whole—the whole ordeal.
He answered every question Carl posed. How long was he in a group home? What neighborhood did he live in? What subject in school was he most interested in? Which, not surprisingly, turned out to be art class. The questions kept coming and coming, so much so that Rosa didn’t get a word in edgewise.
I was so embarrassed.
And so incredibly disappointed.
“What do your foster parents do for a living?” Carl asked.
My fingers tightened around my fork as I breathed through my nose. This...this was getting out of hand.
Rider was unfazed. “I only have one foster parent. Mrs. Luna’s husband passed away before I came into the picture. She works at the phone company.”
“And what do you plan to do when you graduate high school?” Carl kept on firing. “You’ll age out of the system and I assume you don’t plan on staying with Mrs. Luna. Are you heading to college?”
“I currently don’t have any plans to go to college,” Rider responded as he pushed his chickpeas across his plate. “That costs a lot of money, and Mrs. Luna has already done so much for me. I couldn’t expect her to pay for my college.”
“There are grants and scholarships,” Carl reasoned as he cut into the slice of pot roast. “I’m under the impression that you’re very bright.”
“He is,” I said. “And he’s also very talented. He...he has artwork displayed at a place in the city.”
Rider grinned at me.
“You do?” Rosa responded smoothly. “At an art gallery?”
As Rider answered her question, I prayed that Carl would stop with the third degree.
Rider looked over and asked for a second time, “You’re not eating?”
Half of my mouthwatering pot roast sat untouched. I was too frustrated to chew my food without spitting it onto the table.
He nudged my arm and said in a low voice, “Eat.”
Sighing, I picked up my fork and stabbed the meat. “Happy?”
His dimple appeared in his cheek. “Thoroughly.”
Carl’s perpetual frown faded a bit and he eased off at that point. Sort of. When he asked what we planned to do tomorrow, it was me who answered, but he kept directing the questions to Rider. Thirty minutes after dinner was finished, I kind of wanted to flip a table.
It had been a very, very long time since I’d felt that way.
“Mallory tells me you have a girlfriend,” Carl said, and I nearly choked as my eyes widened. “How does she feel about you coming to dinner tonight?”
Rosa looked over at her husband, her brows raised. I opened my mouth to point out that his girlfriend really, seriously wasn’t any of his business when Rider shocked me.
“I don’t have a girlfriend, sir.”
I jerked back in my seat as my head swung toward him. “What?”
“I mean, I did.” Rider’s cheeks pinked as his gaze met mine. “Paige and I... Well, we broke up.”
My stomach dropped to my feet as I stared at him. A thousand thoughts whirled. I couldn’t have been more shocked. He hadn’t mentioned anything. Then again, I hadn’t asked about him and Paige since last week, but how could he not have mentioned that?
“Well, this appears to be a surprise to everyone.” Carl’s tone was flat.