“I didn’t ask, but probably. I doubt the stipend is enough to live on my own.” He cast a sly look my way. “You know of someone?”
I gave him my own heat-filled stare. “I do. She’s tidy and knows how to cook.”
“Works for me.” He leaned back and patted his stomach. “I’m neat and like to eat.”
“Sounds like a perfect match.”
He returned my happy smile and kissed my cheek.
Despite the good news, for the rest of the day his movements remained robotic and his gaze distant. He didn’t speak up in class at all. Not that he was a know-it-all who always raised his hand, but he usually participated at least a little bit.
I wished he could tell me what happened.
On the way home after school, I tried to think of a tactful way to ask.
“You’re quiet today,” Roman said.
“So are you.”
“I’m tired.”
I hesitated, my steps slowing until he stopped. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. You had me worried last night.”
He sighed and shifted his gaze to the side. “I’m sorry. I was near a phone and just wanted to hear your voice.”
I waited.
Finally, he relented. “I’m not allowed to talk about it.”
“Oh.” Well, that was better than not wanting to tell me.
He jammed his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground. “I got accused of doing something I didn’t do. Thank fuck we got back late from the field trip yesterday.”
“Was it that bad?”
“Could’ve been.”
Frustrated, I felt so helpless to do anything for him.
We kept walking toward my house in silence. On the corner my neighbor, Mrs. Shields, waved at me.
“Juliet!” she called. “Sweetheart, can you come here a second?”
“Do you mind?” I asked Roman. In a lower voice I explained, “Her husband died last year and she’s all alone. I try to stop by and help her out when I can.”
“Sure.” He gestured for me to go ahead.
We strolled up the short driveway together. Mrs. Shields smiled as soon as she saw Roman.
“Who’s your friend, Juliet?”
I hesitated. Would she tell my uncle if I introduced Roman as my boyfriend? When was the last time they even spoke to each other? Who cared if he found out? I liked Mrs. Shields too much to lie.
“Mrs. Shields, this is my boyfriend Roman.”
“Boyfriend,” she repeated. Her raised eyebrow and slightly curved lips hinted at her approval. “Aren’t you a good-looking young man. So tall!” she gushed.
One glance at Roman showed he was blushing.
Did he really not realize how attractive he was or was it just because someone old enough to be his grandmother was pointing it out?
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Shields.” He extended his hand and she shook it briefly, beaming the whole time.
I gestured to the open trunk of her car. “Do you need help carrying your groceries inside?”
“Would you mind? They packed them too heavy at the store again.”
“Sure,” I answered, reaching for the closest brown paper bag.
Roman waved me off. “I got ’em. Help her inside.”
Mrs. Shields did indeed need help navigating her way to the front door. She dropped her keys several times and seemed extremely frustrated.
“This is why I stay home most of the time,” she muttered, squinting at the lock.
“I can do it, Mrs. Shields.” I eased the keys from her hands and opened the door.
“Thank you.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t go to the store alone,” I suggested gently. “Where’s your daughter?”
She rolled her eyes and shuffled into the kitchen. “Who knows? Following some band around the country last I knew.”
“Where do you want ’em?” Roman asked, as he followed us into the kitchen.
“On the counter, please.”
He set everything down and the two of us unpacked the bags, following Mrs. Shields’ instructions for where to put all the supplies.
“Oh! This is really why I called you over, Juliet.” She took a brick-sized package neatly wrapped in foil out of the fridge. “I made banana bread.”
My mouth watered as soon as she placed the bread in my hands. She was a phenomenal baker.
I eyed Roman. “It’s a good thing I like you so much. Normally I wouldn’t share.”
Both of them laughed.
“That's for you to take home, dear. The two of you can help me finish mine.”
“No, I can’t do that,” Roman said.
“Are you allergic, dear?” she asked, setting the plates on the counter and slipping a knife out of the drawer.
“Uh, no. I just…”
When she looked away, I shook my head at him. Mrs. Shields shared her affection for people by feeding them. It would hurt her feelings if he turned down her offer.
While she brewed a pot of coffee, I set the table. Roman kept eying the front door like he planned to make a run for it any second.
“This is amazing,” he said a few minutes later after we were all seated with coffee and cake.
“Told ya,” I mumbled around a forkful of moist banana goodness.
She had lots of questions for me about school and I answered in detail, even though none of it seemed very exciting.