Overlooked(2)(112)

“I said, wouldn’t they, Greg,” my mother repeats.

I don’t know what to say now. I’m not even sure what to say if my father invites us. Would Steel want to stay here? Would I?

“I’m not sure we know enough about Kayden to welcome him into our house,” my father says.

My mother lowers her voice, and leans into my father, but I can still hear her say, “What do you mean, he’s the father of our grandchild.”

“What do you want to know, Dad? I’m not saying we want to stay here anyway, but whatever it is you want to know, you go ahead and ask.”

My father clears his throat, and says, “For starters, Kayden, why do you have a neck tattoo? Are you in a gang?”

Steel screws up his face, and says, “No, I ain’t in a gang. I’m from the carnival.”

“Then why?” my dad asks.

“Come on, Dad, get with the times. Lots of people have neck tattoos now,” I say.

“Not ones with decent jobs,” my dad says.

“Sure they do. But it doesn’t matter anyway, because you’ve answered my question — we wouldn’t be welcome here.”

“Anyway, Kayden,” my father says, ignoring me, “What type of job are you looking for?”

“I’m good with my hands, strong, and work hard. I’m not too worried about finding something,” Steel says, gripping my hand tightly.

“Funny, I hear that a lot in hiring, and it always ends up to be the opposite,” my dad says.

“I’ve held down the same job for ten years, I worked my way up to ride foreman. Ain’t no way Papa Smurf would’ve kept me around if I wasn’t a hard worker,” Steel says. There’s fire in his voice and he squeezes my hand tighter still.

My dad laughs. “Papa Smurf?” he says, scoffing.

“He’s the carnival owner,” I say.

“And he’s a real hard-ass to work for. If I can last with him, I can survive anywhere.”

“So you’re prepared to work and provide for this baby?”

“Of course I am, I already said that,” Steel says.

“I know you said it, but do you mean it?” my dad says, raising his voice.

“I’m here ain’t I? I would’ve stayed with the carnival if I wasn’t serious.” Steel turns to me, and says, “Maybe we should’ve raised the baby in the carnival, we’d get less shit there.”

I flinch at his words, and my mother whimpers.

“You know you don’t mean that,” I say, my voice strained. I glare at my father. “I already told you, Dad, it was Steel’s idea to come here. Remember?”

No one says anything. All of the air in the room hangs with the tension. My heart is speeding in my chest, but I refuse to let my father get to me.

Finally, my mother breaks the silence and says, “Emily, you and Kayden are welcome in my house anytime. If you say he’s a good man, I trust your judgment.”

I look at Steel and catch his eyes. Blinking back tears, I say, “He is a good man. The best.”

My mother’s never seemed to trust my judgment at anything I’ve ever done. Maybe she’s finally accepted that I’m grown up. And not an idiot.

“I’ll tell you what. Just to make my daughter happy,“ my father says, his eyes burning into me, “You come down to the dealership in Woburn tomorrow, if you’re a hard worker, like you say you are, I’ll find something for you.”

Steel glances at me, his mouth a tight line, and says, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“What? I’ve just sat here and offered you a job, and you’re turning it down? You just said you were hard working,” my dad says.

“I can find something myself,” Steel says. His leg jiggles under the table, and I can see the tension in his neck.

“Unbelievable, Carol,” my dad says, looking at my mom and shaking his head.

“Dad,” I say, widening my eyes.

He looks at Steel, tilts his head, and says, “You could at least take it until you find something else.”

Steel doesn’t respond, and my breathing stops, waiting for something to happen.

“Goldie, can I talk to you for a minute?” Steel asks, his voice pleading.

“Okay,” I say, my brow furrowed.

I stand, and lead him by the hand to the den. The room is far away from the breakfast area, but I shut the door anyway.

“What is it?” I ask.

Steel’s breathing is fast, he closes his eyes and says, “I don’t got no social security number.”

“So, we can apply for one, it’s no big deal. My father doesn’t have to know you were paid cash all these years.”