A glance to the oven showed that the broiler wasn't quite ready yet. He set the chicken on its pan aside, then put his hands under the faucet again. He was listening carefully to what Dov had to say about his family, and although his expression had gone fastidiously blank, his reactions to it were far less innocuous.
He himself hadn't had a father or any other siblings. In fact, the only family he knew was his mother. It was obvious that his mother and father both had parents, but when Elias asked about them -- some long years ago -- he was met with very little true information. Needless to say, his grandparents had never been a part of his life. It really was just his mother. But he cherished her.
He knew that other families didn't feel the same way about each other. But knowing about that fact and internalizing it in a way that made sense were two different things. He finally shook his head. "I'm sorry, Dov," he said quietly.
The kid -- everyone -- deserved better.
Turning toward the rest of the bags on the counter, Elias began pulling out the makings of a very healthy salad. Romaine, carrots, olives, broccoli -- it all pointed toward the idea of a salad as the side dish. "So is that why you wanted to meet Ch--"
A knock interrupted him. Frowning, he muttered, "Hold that thought," and headed for the door.