13 Chapter 13: Mariana, Part 1

"So how old are your kids?" Tom asks me from across the table. We're sitting at Texas Roadhouse, a high energy, loud steakhouse chain that can be found all over Houston. It's the only place I've ever been that gives you buckets of peanuts to eat before your meal and actually wants you to throw the shells on the floor. It's messy, but fun. And their rolls are to die for so when Tom suggested it, I knew I was game.

"Five, three, and one," I say, as I glance over the menu. It's been so long since I've been here, it's hard to decide what to eat.

"Wow. You have your hands full." Tom puts his menu down and leans forward on the table. His clear green eyes are really kind. He has dark hair with a little gray mixed in. Not a lot, but enough to make him look distinguished. "I remember when my kids were that age. They ran me ragged every day, and I was only home for a few hours because of work."