Page 39 of More Than Nothing
In the kitchen, Thea was checking on something in the oven. Lunch smelled wonderful; his stomach growled. Both his parents loved their food.
Elenie took a long, slow look around the large, sunny space and Roman wondered what she was thinking.
“Can I get you a drink?” Luke had one hand on the open fridge door.
“Thank you. I’ll have any soda there is, please.” Elenie gave him the glimmer of a smile.
Roman did a quick round of introductions, silently beating himself up as he waved a hand toward Florence but avoided catching her eye. Last night’s dream lurked too close for comfort. Overtired and oversensitive, he was struggling to shake free of its grasp. As everyone grabbed drinks and exchanged news, his dad crossed the room to say hello.
“I’m Elias.” He clasped one of Elenie’s hands in both of his. “I can see why my son is a fan. Welcome to our home.”
She blinked, the smallest tilt tugging at her lips. “It’s lovely to be here. Thank you for inviting me.”
Roman’s mother called across the kitchen, wanting advice from Milo on buying a paper shredder which Roman knew she’d never use. On the couch, Florence talked to Caitlyn’s stomach, sharing fashion tips and ridiculous life hacks with the baby. When Thea slid her arm around Roman’s waist, he saw Elenie tense.
“Your home is very beautiful,” Elenie said to his sister, embarrassment giving an edge to her words. “I hope Roman passed on my thanks for letting me stay.”
Thea reached out to give Elenie a hug. She squeezed her gently, her lips close to Elenie’s ear. “Whoever did that to you is an asshole. Come and stay anytime you like.” His sister drew back and Roman flicked her a grateful wink.
“OK, people—grab a dish and take it to the table with you!” his dad called out.
“Florence, get the enchiladas out of the oven. Milo, can you take the sweetcorn?” Ava started handing out food. The gold hoopsin his mother’s ears caught the sun as they swung. She passed Elenie two small bowls of spicy salsa and guacamole, before giving Roman a huge dish filled with a colorful salad, topped with beans and crumbled feta, which looked as if it would feed twenty people.
When they sat down around the large rectangular table that had hosted every family gathering for as long as he could remember, he reached beneath it to touch Elenie’s hand. She jolted and gave him a sideways glance. Her fingers had warmed up and Roman ran his thumb once over her soft skin, startled by the flicker of heat it lit in his stomach. He drew back again.
“You OK?” he mouthed.
“I’m fine.” She looked a little shell-shocked, though not uncomfortable.
The table buzzed with noise. Plates of food were handed back and forth, serving spoons passed and sauces exchanged in a dance of hands, laughter andexcuse me’s.
“So, you work in the diner on Main Street, Elenie?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I’ve seen you in there. That Delia can sure work a griddle but she doesn’t break a smile as often as she should.” His mother’s understated observation was spot on.
“I think there’s a lot of things in life that disappoint Delia,” Elenie said, just as carefully. “It’s a challenge each day to work out what is top of that list and, when I can, I try to avoid adding to it.”
“One of the reasons I like working for myself,” chipped in Caitlyn, waving her fork. “The only moods I have to deal with are my own.”
“And that’s what the chocolate in the top drawer of your desk is for,” added Milo.
Caitlyn grinned. “He knows me well.”
“What do you like about working in the diner?” his mother asked. Roman remembered the conversation on Otto’s deck and wondered how Elenie would answer.
She took a moment to swallow a spicy mouthful. “It’s busy, so there’s no time to be bored. A lot of people are in a hurry or they’re socializing with friends, so they don’t want much of a personal approach. Just a few come in because they want some company or a change of scenery.” She was clearly talking about Otto. “It matters to them to have a connection with the person who’s bringing them their order. Those customers, I give more time, when I can. I like that best. It means a lot to them. And to me.”
His mother nodded without comment and Roman swiftly asked Luke about a refit he’d just completed at a shop unit in town. Elenie looked more than happy for the conversation to move on. All the different threads of chatter began to merge and spool around them—crossing, linking, and weaving. His dad, retired from the fire service for more than fifteen years, told Elenie about the red-tailed hawk he’d seen by the roadside during the week. Milo and Caitlyn, keen hikers, discussed their plans for including a baby in their future adventures. His mother had just started to dabble in watercolor painting, using one of the upstairs bedrooms as a makeshift studio. “And she claims the twins were messy when they were teenagers,” Luke told Elenie in a muttered aside, getting two matching clips around the ear from Thea on his right and Ava on his left.
Roman usually loved listening to everyone as they talked over and around each other. It was just what his family did. Today, the weariness of a broken night pressed down on him and he felt over-sensitized to the noise. He struggled to relax his face, unclench his teeth. He drummed restless fingers on his leg, counting the beat of each as they tapped in turn against his thigh. When he glanced up, Elenie was watching him with cool, guarded eyes.
Before long, it looked as if the table had been attacked by possums and everyone headed outside onto the deck for dessert and freshly brewed coffee. The afternoon was balmy. They lounged on a medley of outdoor chairs; none of the furniture in his parents’ home was new. Everything well-worn and well-loved, kept for comfort and happy memories.
“You won’t eat a better pecan pie than Ava’s,” Caitlyn told Elenie around the biggest spoonful she could get in her mouth.
“There are over a thousand varieties of pecan nuts.” Elenie studied her plate. “Lots of them are named after Native American tribes.”
