HIS FACE RED, THEODORE unceremoniously picked up a plate. With angry, uncoordinated movements, he dished out food from each bowl then passed it. He repeated the process until all plates were full.
Men did not serve food to the females on the compound. They provided it. The women cooked and served it.
The belligerent sister set a plate in front of me without looking at me. “Bon appétit,” she said caustically.
“Phoebe,” the wife scolded. “Be polite.”
“What?” She jabbed a fork into her meat. “He can’t enjoy his meal? This shit is already awkward as hell, and you all aren’t making it any less tense by sitting around in shocked silence staring at him. You think he wants to talk about the Bible and compound shit? Please.” She looked at me. “I bet you don’t. The past is the past. Am I right?”
My disdain for her eased marginally. “You seem to have no problem filling the silence.” Unlike her sister.
The wife smiled uncomfortably again. “Phoebe’s always been a talker.” She picked up the wine and filled everyone’s glasses.
Where I was from, that would not be a compliment. Saying nothing, I glanced at the food on my plate. Meat in a brown sauce, carrots in a shiny sauce, and green beans in a white sauce. I recognized none of the preparations except the potatoes. They were mashed into a paste like the women on the compound made for the smaller children.
Theodore jabbed his fork into his meat. “So, if you’re selling all that land, where’re you gonna live?”
I contemplated not answering. I did not owe any information about my life to the man who’d fathered me by seed then abandoned his responsibility. But the tense set of my angel’s shoulders next to me was making me rethink my position on silence.
Picking up my fork, I answered, not for him, but for her. “The land is parceled into its five original properties. I will retain one, maybe two.”
Theodore grunted in response, but did not look up from his plate. “How much land does that leave you?”
“Roughly ten thousand acres.” More than enough to live on.
Theodore’s head snapped up. “Ten thousand? What are you gonna do with all that land? Shit, how you gonna pay the property taxes? You got a job?”
My angel shifted in her seat and spoke in a strained voice. “Maybe we should change the subject.”
The sister let out a snort. “What, you don’t like watching your boyfriend get grilled by Dad.”
“Phoebe Ann Faraday!” The wife practically levitated out of her seat. “That is enough!”
“Oh my God.” The angel covered her face with her hands.
I reached under the table and put my hand on her leg. Purposely ignoring the sister, I addressed her stepfather. “I will work the land, and you do not need to concern yourself with my financial well-being.” Even after I divided up the cash reserves amongst the remaining River Ranch members still alive after the attack, I had more money from River’s estate than I could spend in two lifetimes.
Theodore leveled me with a look. Then he pointed his fork at my angel without taking his eyes off me. “Just so we’re clear, that’s your stepsister. I don’t know what went on in that compound, but outside those gates, we have laws about inbreeding.”
Angel choked on a bite of food.
I patted her back until she held a hand up, then I glared at Theodore. “I am not a heathen, nor am I ignorant. Neither of your stepdaughters are related to me by blood. I will not defend myself, actions nor otherwise, to you.”
“Well,” the sister muttered, picking up her wine. “He told you.”
“Jesus Christ, Phoebe,” Theodore snapped.
“What?” She looked at him innocently. “All I’m saying is—”
“I know what the hell you’re saying,” Theodore roared. “And I’ve had enough. I’ve indulged you and your attitude for years, but it stops now. This is my house, my table, and that’s my son you’re insulting. If you can’t respect that, leave.”
“I didn’t insult anyone.” Defiant, the sister glared at her stepfather as she drank the rest of her wine, then stood. “For the record, I only stated facts.” She glanced at her mother. “Nice dinner, Mom.” Her cutting gaze swung to her sister. “And you.” She shook her head. “Never thought you had it in you, sis.” She tipped her chin toward me and chuckled. “Good luck with that one.” With more attitude than I had seen in a female, she walked out.
My angel dropped her gaze to her lap. Her mother picked up her wine, and Theodore rubbed a hand over his face as his cell phone rang.
Glancing at the display, Theodore pushed his chair back and stood. “I need to take this. It’s the shop.” He walked through the same door as his stepdaughter.
The wife tried to smile at me. “I’m so sorry, Callan. Family dinners aren’t usually like this.”
My angel exhaled. “Mom, I love you, but yes they are. Phoebe’s always… Phoebe.”
The same as her daughter, heat colored the fair skin of the wife’s face. “Okay, so Phoebe and Ted can butt heads a bit, but she’s never walked out before.”
“Ted’s never yelled at her before. Which, if you ask me, is a miracle.” Angel looked at me. “I’m sorry she was so inappropriate.”
“You do not have to apologize for her.”
“Well, I am anyway. You didn’t deserve any of that.”
I did not point out in front of her mother that her sister was right. I did not have pure intentions. Far from it.
The wife pushed her fork around her plate. “So, you two have met before?”
Angel sighed like she was tired of telling the story. “Yes, at the gas station by Ted’s shop. Remember that weekend I filled in for his receptionist?”
“Oh, yes, of course. That was so nice of you, sweetheart.”
She waved her mother off. “Anyway, I went for a Coke because the vending machine at the shop was out and…” She glanced up at me and a shy smile touched her full lips. “We ran into each other.”
The wife’s face took on a pained expression. “That’s quite a coincidence.”
I squeezed my angel’s leg. “You have a beautiful daughter, Mrs. Anders. She is hard to miss.”
Both my angel and the wife went still.
Then the wife cleared her throat, picked up her wine, and drank the whole glass in one breath. “Yes, well.” She looked toward the back door with desperation. “Ted shouldn’t be taking so long.” She threw her napkin on the table and abruptly stood. “I better go check to make sure everything is okay.” She hurried after her husband.
“Oh my God, Callan.” Her arms resting on the table, my gas station angel put her face in her hands. “You can’t say stuff like that.”
I gently pulled her hands away from her face. “I already did.”
She shook her head. “You do know this is….” She paused, as if searching for the right word. “This is messed up, right?”
“Then tell me to leave.” She did not pull away from my touch. She did not pretend to not know me. She was the one who asked me to stay. If she wanted me gone, all she had to do was speak the words, but I knew she would not. Her face became soft whenever she looked at me. She listened when I spoke, and whether she knew it or not, she leaned toward me whenever I addressed her. Telling her to tell me to leave was a test. One I would only give once.
“No,” she sighed. “I’m not going to tell you to leave. You deserve to be here. Ted is your father, and you deserve a chance to get to know him. That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Then what are you talking about?” I knew exactly what she was referring to, but I wanted to hear her say the words. I wanted to know what she was really thinking, not what she thought she was supposed to be thinking.
She turned away. “You should get to know your dad, that’s all I’m saying.”
“I do not want to know a man who yells at his stepdaughter, puts his business first, and leaves a meal with his family.”
She held her hand up. “In his defense, Phoebe was out of line. Ted doesn’t usually speak to her that way. In fact, I’ve never heard him speak to her like that.”
“You cannot defend him to me, Angel.”
Her gaze shot to mine. “Angel?”
My time here was done. I was done with this meal and this house, but I wasn’t done with her. Her mother and Theodore would return, but I had no intention of staying here any longer. “Yes, Angel. I think of you as my gas station angel.” Before I could ask her to leave with me, she burst out laughing.
Rich and full, her laugh carried through the night, but its very presence gave me pause.
“What?” I demanded, suddenly on guard.
She picked her napkin up and dabbed at her eyes. “Nothing, it’s nothing.” She smiled wide. “I swear, it’s just….” She looked up at me and heat hit her cheeks. “I think of you as my gas station god.”
For the first time in years, the corner of my mouth tipped up.
Her lips formed a perfect O. “Ohhh,” she breathed out. “Don’t do that.”
As quickly as it appeared, my half smile disappeared. “Do what?”
“Almost smile.” She sucked in a breath. “Oh my God, just….” Her hand waved through the air. “Yeah.” She shook her head. “Don’t ever give me a full smile, I might faint.” She laughed sheepishly.
I held back another smile. “Noted.”
Her mother and Theodore stepped back out onto the porch and took their seats.
No sympathy for the duress in my biological father’s expression, I glanced at his wife. “Thank you for your hospitality.” Squeezing my angel’s leg once, I stood. “I will take my leave.”
My angel looked up at me with wide eyes. “Where are you going?” She started to get up.
Not caring what her mother or Theodore thought, I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Stay. Finish your meal. I will let myself out.”
She did not protest, but I could see in her expression her unasked question of whether she would see me again.
Squeezing her shoulder once, reassuring her she would see me another time, I nodded at her mother then took my leave.
My biological father never said a word.