He glares at me for long seconds while my heart tries to burst in my chest. No matter how many times I wish it, I can't simply go into cardiac arrest. It looks like I'm going to have to live through this, at least for the moment, as ridiculous as that sounds.
Finally he drops my hand, pushing it away slightly as though it’s something horrible. He turns on his heel and walks back to the chair where he was sitting. Picking up his glass of port, he tosses it back and swallows hard.
Alek’s eyes shift between Roman and me over and over. A smile is stretched over his wide, friendly mouth. Out of all of us, Alek is the only one who seems really pleased. “Isn't she beautiful, Roman?”
Roman nods, pausing a few seconds before he answers. I see Daddy's eyes go dark.
“Dinner is served,” Marisela calls from the doorway. Everyone looks at her for a moment, aware of being caught in the act. She stands and pulls the door to the formal dining room open, revealing a lush table set with candles and an array of lavish china.
Obediently we shuffle into the dining room. Daddy takes his place at the far end of the table, while Alek and Roman take seats on either side of him. I take my place at the other end of the table, several feet away from the gathering of men. I feel like there's a spotlight on me, harsh and hot.
Marisela serves steaming ladles of a rich chicken broth into the bowls in front of us. Daddy flicks his napkin and lays it across his lap, peering sideways at Roman. Roman’s demeanor has apparently changed, and Daddy appears to be calculating the meaning and measure of the change.
Alek takes a loud spoonful of soup into his mouth as he glares at his brother. Roman does not take his eyes off me. I stare into the depths of my soup and tip a mouthful onto the spoon. For long seconds I let it hover in front of my nose, fighting a wave of nausea that makes me think that maybe I shouldn't eat anything.
“An absolute treasure,” I hear Roman finally say. I sip at the soup and let it course over my tongue, streaming down the back of my throat and into my empty belly with a splash.
I'm afraid to look up. I hope that what he's just said has made Daddy happy, but I hear something distasteful in his voice.
“She's well worthy of the peace, I think,” Roman continues, his voice rising in timbre. A chill runs across my bare shoulders as I feel his eyes sweeping back and forth. “Do you think that she is, how would you say this... sturdy enough for marriage?”
I stifle a gasp. The table shifts slightly as Daddy pushes himself back in his chair. His hand goes up to the bottom half of his face and he rubs his chin thoughtfully.
“I don't think I get your meaning, Roman,” Daddy says carefully.
“It's just that I presume your ways are different.”
I glance at Alek who is peering at his brother, his face a mask of caution.
Daddy nods. “I suppose they are,” he says reasonably. “And yet, isn’t love the same everywhere? I'm certain she can adjust.”
“And is this how she normally dresses?” Roman asks innocently, squinting at me. I see Daddy's cheeks deepen into crimson, and Alek’s hands claw at the tablecloth.
“She has excellent taste,” Daddy says.
“Oh, I have no doubt, Don Lauro,” Roman says. He looks at Daddy and nods with a thoughtful frown. He looks as though he's negotiating for a better price, and Daddy looks like he's about to have a stroke. “I just want to be sure that our apparent cultural differences are not going to be a problem. I only want to make your daughter happy, of course.”
“Of course you do!” Alek adds. There's a warning edge to his voice that Roman seems intent to ignore.
“What exactly is the nature of your concern, Roman?” Daddy growls.
“Well…” Roman begins, shrugging. He bounces his head from side to side as though uncertain about the words he wants to say. “I suppose what I'm really wanting to know is, will she be… How shall I put this? Obedient?”
Daddy shakes his head irritably. “Of course she's obedient. She's my daughter.”
“And does she understand the position of the woman in the family?”
“I'm sure I don't know what you mean,” Daddy says.
“Well, in our culture… The man is… How can I say it? The man. The woman is the woman.”
Daddy rolls his eyes as though relieved. “Oh, Roman. I assure you, you'll have no problem with that. Marie is a very good girl. A very good girl. She understands her place, to be sure.”
Roman looks back at me. My mouth snaps shut, even though I didn't realize that it had been open. My spoon just hovers in the air where the soup has gone cold inside it. He fixes me in a calculating sneer.
“You'll do as you're told,” he says, and I nod even though it wasn't a question. Even though he didn't indicate that I had any say so in the matter at all.