Hiding in Martha’s arms with red-rimmed eyes, Dio’s little face was crumpled in aggrieved misery.
Clark stood off to the side at a complete loss, still holding the tattered book covered in pig slop.
“Uncle Rock!” Seeing his father leave, Clark rushed toward Rock like he’d found a savior the moment he saw him, his blue eyes filled with anxiety.
“Let me explain!
I didn’t bully Dio on purpose!”
Hearing this, Dio buried his face even deeper into Martha’s apron, his shoulders trembling slightly as he let out soft, stifled sobs.
Rock raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping between the two boys.
As the two children grew older, similar scenes had played out far too many times over recent years.
Dio always managed to put on the most innocent act, backing Clark into a corner where no explanation could clear his name.
He didn’t know why Dio did this, but whenever he asked, Dio would just grumble and pull the blanket over his head, refusing to speak to him.
Rock felt a bit weary.
Was a person’s nature truly unchangeable from birth?
“Clark?” He deliberately dragged out his tone, crouching down to meet Clark at eye level.
“So tell me, what happened?”
Clark was so anxious his face flushed red.
“I just wanted to see what book Dio was reading, but I guess…
maybe I really slipped?” He hung his head in frustration.
“I’m sorry.
I forgot to control my strength, and the book flew out of my hands into the pig trough…”
“So it was an accident?” Rock asked.
“Yes!
It really was an accident!” Clark nodded vigorously, then added dejectedly, “But Dio says I did it on purpose…”
“But…”
Only then did Dio lift his head from Martha’s embrace, tears still glistening on his eyelashes.
His voice was as faint as a mosquito’s hum.
“That book…
Dad just bought it for me last week…”
What a brilliant tactical retreat.
Rock sighed inwardly.
The boy could have just accused Clark directly, but instead he emphasized where the book came from, virtually writing “I’m being sensible, but I’m deeply wronged” across his face.
Sure enough…
“Oh, poor Dio.” Martha hugged Dio tighter, her heart aching for him.
“Clark really does need to learn to control his strength.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!”
Clark stamped his foot in desperation, making the wooden floorboards creak under the strain.
Seeing the situation about to spiral out of control again, Rock cleared his throat.
“Clark, what should you do when you ruin someone else’s things?”
“A-Apologize…” Pouting, Clark turned to Dio.
“I’m sorry, Dio.
I’ll help you wash the book clean later.”
Blinking his tear-glistening red eyes, Dio flashed an angelic smile.
“It’s okay, Brother Clark.
I know you didn’t mean to.”
—The sheer speed of this face-change left even Rock in awe.
Was this really a seven-year-old child?
“Oh~ Looks like our problem is resolved.” Jonathan, having returned from who knows where, clapped his hands with a sigh of relief.
“Alright kids, time for dinner.”
“Martha made apple pie, and the slow-roasted brisket Rock fired up this morning should be ready too!”
“Then I’m sitting with Dad!”
Dio immediately hopped off Martha’s lap and trotted over to Rock’s side, obediently taking his hand.
He didn’t forget to turn around and give Clark a sweet smile.
“Come on too, Brother.”
“?”
Clark stood there dazed, his face a picture of utter confusion over what had just happened.
Rock rubbed his temples.
He bent down close to Dio’s ear and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear: “Don’t push it, little imp.”
“What are you talking about, Dad?” Dio’s smile didn’t break in the slightest as he replied in an equally low voice.
“Dad, I really just want to get along with Brother.”
“…”
“Alright, let’s eat.
Clark, come with me to check on the brisket.”
“Yay!
Brisket!”
Standing where he was, Dio watched Rock walk outside with Clark.
His obedient smile gradually froze.
His fingers unconsciously pinched the hem of his shirt, a streak of gloom flashing across his ruby-like eyes.
*Curse that Clark!*
He gnashed his teeth inwardly.
*All he knows is how to play pitiful to get Dad’s sympathy.*
It was clearly a situation he had meticulously orchestrated, yet as long as that big dummy put on that bewildered look, Dad’s attention was instantly drawn right back to him.
Staring at Clark’s receding back, Dio’s gaze lingered on the plaid shirt speckled with bits of grass…
He remembered that shirt.
Dad had bought it, but he’d rejected it as too tacky and had never worn it.
But now it was on Clark!
The setting sun cast long shadows from the smoker.
Lifting the heavy iron lid, a rich aroma of meat blended with fruitwood smoke rushed out to meet them.
Clark stood nearby, staring intently at the smoker, though he still looked a bit down.
“Still feeling wronged?”
Rock poked the charcoal with an iron hook, causing sparks to crackle and fly.
“I really didn’t mean to do it.” Clark kicked a small pebble on the ground, sending it flying into the clouds under Rock’s helpless gaze.
“That book…”
“I know.” Rock interrupted him, pulling a pocketknife from his pocket.
“Bend down.”
As Clark leaned down in confusion, Rock used the tip of the blade to peel back a corner of the foil.
Amber-colored juices immediately rushed out, glistening temptingly in the firelight.
He quickly sliced off a small piece of caramelized bark and popped it into Clark’s mouth while it was hot.
?!
Clark’s eyes widened instantly into saucers.
The crispy crust crunched between his teeth while the tender meat melted on his tongue, exploding in his mouth with a blend of black pepper and sweet maple aromas!
He instinctively covered his mouth, terrified the flavor might escape from his lips.
“Good?” Rock blinked at him.
Clark nodded furiously, his cheeks puffed out like a hamster’s.
“This is how you get the real prize without making a scene, Clark.” Rock wrapped the foil back up, keeping his voice very low.
“Instead of arguing, it’s better to wait and enjoy the real rewards.”
Clark swallowed the piece of meat with half-comprehension, a bit of sauce still clinging to the corner of his mouth.
Rock reached out to wipe it away for him and continued, “Dio’s personality might be a little peculiar, but he really is a good kid deep down.”
“Try to be more understanding toward him.”
The evening breeze rustled Clark’s curly black hair, bringing with it the sweet scent of clover from the distant fields.
“I know.
He is my brother, after all.” Looking down at his mud-splattered work boots, Clark suddenly asked in a low voice, “Uncle Rock…
can I have another piece?”
Chuckling, Rock surreptitiously cut an even bigger piece for him.
“Chew slowly.”
“Mhm, mhm, mhm!”
Learning his lesson this time, Clark squatted behind the smoker like a little bear that had stolen honey, taking tiny bites to savor the exquisite brisket.
His blue eyes sparkled in the twilight, his earlier gloom completely vanished.
Right at that moment, Martha’s voice calling for dinner came from inside the house.
“Let’s go.” Rock patted Clark on the shoulder.
“You’re a real man who can lift whole hay bales, after all.”
Clark nodded vigorously.
As he stood up, he suddenly gave Rock a tight hug, then quickly reined in his strength, terrified he might accidentally crack his uncle’s ribs like last time.
By the time the two returned indoors, Dio was sitting primly at the dining table, thoughtfully folding napkins for everyone.
His eyes lingered for a second on the glossy, sauce-stained corner of Clark’s mouth, his red pupils narrowing slightly.
“Brother Clark, do you have something on your mouth?” Dio reminded him sweetly.