Page 23 of Along Came Amor
Mikayla pointed to her screen. “This one wants to know about intersections of identity.”
“You could easily write about that.”
Mikayla’s eye-roll told him he was one hundred percent wrong. “If I submit an essay about being Puerto Rican and Black and bisexual, it’s going to sound like I’m playing diversity bingo.”
Roman stifled a laugh. “Okay, what else is there?”
“Some ask about growth, overcoming an obstacle, or being grateful for something, and all I can think about for those is Dad. It feels too personal to write about him, but maybe I should.”
“Only if you want to.” He waited a beat, watching her. “Do you?”
She tapped her fingernails, painted in chipped rainbow stripes, on the edge of the laptop. “I think I do. But I can’t talk about Dad without talking about you, too.”
“Why me?”
“Lots of kids lose a parent, right? Through some way or another.”
Roman nodded. He’d grown up without a father, so he knew firsthand.
“But not every kid has a big brother like you,” Mikayla went on.
“Rich?” he joked.
“Not just that.” She gave him adon’t be stupidlook that was the spitting image of the one their mother used to give him when he was younger. “You could’ve just paid for everything and left Mami and me to our lives. But you let us move in—”
“Because Iwantedyou here. It wasn’t out of obligation, Mickey.”
“That’s exactly my point. Yeah, I was sad, and you know, grieving, but you made sure we weren’t alone. That we had a place to live. That we were still a family.”
“Wearea family. And this will always be your home.”
“Stop being cheesy.” But she looked like she was trying not to smile.
“Mickey.” He waited until she met his eyes. “When you were born, all I had to my name were student loans and a shitty old Toyota. But I made a promise that I would always,alwaystake care of you, the best that I could. I meant it then, and I mean it now.”
“Hard to imagine you like that,” she murmured, glancing at his silk suit. “Driving a shitty old Toyota.”
He inclined his head, then spread his arms to encompass the spacious apartment. “You know all this is new to me. Inside, I’m still that kid hustling to make a buck.”
Her gaze turned shrewd. “Is that why you work so hard?”
He tried to shrug it off, since he didn’t ever want her to feel guilty. “Partly. I wanted you to have an easier life than I did.”
“You’re a good big brother, Ro.” She hugged him, and when she pulled away, she said lightly, “Anyway, you won’t have to take care of me much longer. I’ll be away at college soon.IfI manage to finish these stupid essays.”
“You’ll finish them.” And how the hell was she already old enough to be applying to college? “And if you don’t, I’ll happily donate a gymnasium to your top choice.”
Mikayla snickered. “I knew name dropping my rich and famous big brother would be a good idea.”
“Hey, it works for the rich white kids. Why have all this money if I can’t game the system in your favor now and then?”
“Wish I’d known a gym donation was on the table before I spent the last few years getting a 4.0 GPA the old-fashioned way.” She wrote three big dollar signs in her notebook, then shoved it aside. “So, how’syourbook coming along?”
Roman blew out a breath, thinking about the business memoir he’d been approached to write. “Don’t ask. I have a meeting with the editor tomorrow morning. I’m supposed to turn in some ideas, but I don’t have any.”
“All that time you spend working, and you don’t even know what you do all day?”
He bit back a sigh. “Meetings. So many meetings. No one wants to hear about that.”
