Page 43 of The Sea-Mist Cottage Inn
They both flinched. I think Wyatt made some kind of face at me, but my attention was on Roman, who was at that moment sinking fast in my estimation. An intruder, just like Darryl Manfred. Somebody else trying to control me and my life for his own ends.
Roman set the tongs aside and started to come toward me. Worry, not offense or defensiveness, crimped his brow. I saw that but didn’t care. Micah had used worry as a gentle cudgel.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Roman asked, coming near enough to reach out to me, as if he meant to touch my face.
I reared back. “Why are you here?”
“Mom, stop!” Wyatt said, his tone sharp. I heard him but gave him no heed.
Still worried, but now showing confusion as well, Roman stopped where he was and answered, “I wanted to be here in case you needed to talk after your meeting with Jerry. It was about dinner time, so Wyatt and I decided to try to have dinner ready when you got home. I see now that I made some assumptionsand took liberties here. I’m sorry, Leo. I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“You didn’t!” Wyatt protested. “It’s good you’re here. Mom, tell him it’s good he’s here!”
Again, I heard what my kid was saying. I understood that he was glad Roman was here. We’d had fun, all three of us, in Eureka on Saturday, and I’d been glad to see how easy they were with each other. But at this moment, standing behind the cabin while the scent of barbecue surrounded us, all I could think was Roman was taking over. I’d been back for only about three weeks, and already he was taking over. He was even trying to parent my son.
Because, my churning mind decided, he still saw me as that damaged, neglected kid I’d been. He didn’t think I could handle things myself.
“I need you to go,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. I think the result was more of a growl, though.
Roman looked at me, diving deep as always, for about five seconds. I stared back, my chin up. Then he nodded and headed toward the path that would take him to the parking lot. As he came up beside me, he paused and said, softly, “I really am sorry, Leo.”
I said nothing.
He continued on his way.
SEVENTEEN: Clarity
Wyatt stared at me, agape. He looked both furious and sad enough to cry.
Already, with the last few minutes echoing in my head, I was beginning to regret my words and behavior. Now that Roman wasn’t here, the scene he’d left seemed harmless—more than that, it seemedsweet.
They’d been making dinner together. What had Roman said? That they’d wanted it to be ready when I got back. A nice thing for me—and for Wyatt, too. On top of that, I’d been late. Wyatt had been glad Roman was here—and he was furious with me for sending him away.
He’d been doing a nice thing, making my kid happy, and I’d torn all that down in seconds. But the nice thing was thereasonI was upset. Why? I was no longer sure. My sense of righteousness was fading quickly, like morning fog on a sunny day.
“What is yourproblem?” Wyatt sneered. It was the first time he’d ever spoken to me with that particular tone, full of rage and contempt, and it redoubled my burgeoning guilt.
From my emotional fog I snagged the reason for my hot entrance, if not the feeling that had supported it. Control. Roman had taken liberties in my home, while I was away, acting like he belonged there when we were still getting to know each other in the present and still figuring out who we might be to each other. That felt like—was—controlling behavior. Right?
Or had I projected my feelings about other people onto Roman? Like the way Darryl Manfred had stomped into the middle of my home as if it were his—and was literally trying to make my home his and destroy me? Though I felt miserably guilty to think it, Micah was wrapped up in this, too, wasn’t he?How he’d taken over, done what he’d wanted, left me in the dark and then left Wyatt and me with nothing.
And then there was my mother.
Okay, obviously I was hyper-protective of my boundaries, both literal and figurative, and I’d lashed out. But had I done so without cause? Had I truly overreacted or had Roman truly overstepped?
Wyatt was still glaring at me, expecting an explanation. I reclaimed my equilibrium and gave him one.
“Wyatt, this is our house. We need to be firm about our boundaries. It’s not okay that he just showed up and took over. He didn’t just drop by, he barged in and made a meal! He should have at least asked. But I’m sorry I embarrassed you.”
His brow drew in tight, and he crossed his arms. “Hedidask!”
“What?”
“He came to the door and asked if I’d heard anything about your meeting. I told him no and asked if he wanted to come in. He said sure, and we talked for a little bit. It was my idea to make dinner for you. Roman just took me to his shop so we could get some meat. He was helping me!”
It was my turn to gape as I processed that change in perspective. “I didn’t know.”
“Because you didn’t give us a chance to tell you! Why were you like that?”
