"Some, I guess. What brought that up?" Sam finishes up with a small burp. Teenage boys.
"That Tyler guy was talking about...."
"Taylor. His name is Taylor," Sam corrects me
"Are you sure? Yeah, I guess you are. I just like the name Tyler better. Better president too, at least in my opinion."
"President? Anyway, there's a few paintings hanging in the back hall and upstairs. Most of what's here is stored in a special room in the basement. I don't know how to get into it. Maybe someone else does. I think he's got work at the university, other places. You would have to ask someone else. It isn't that much." Sam lets out another huge burp.
"Excuse you. Well, Tyler, Taylor, mentioned that there was a showing of our father's work tonight at the, um, Pierson. I think it's some kind of benefit. I think we should go there, just to show up, let everyone know about me and see that you are doing well enough."
"Are you sure? Mr. Taylor and my dad had this funny relationship."
"You didn't mention that before when I asked about him. What was funny about it?"
"Nothing really," Sam starts. "I guess Mr. Taylor was a fan of some of dad's work. When he found out that he lived just a few streets over, Mr. Taylor just geeked out. He tried to get closer to dad whenever he could. Nothing creepy, just wanted to be friends with him. The two aren't that close, but I don't think they were ever close friends."
I ponder this for a moment. Sure, this Taylor, Tyler, wait, I was right the first time, didn't look dangerous. Just your regular middle-aged dad bod guy trying to be good neighbor. But I still think something is not right. Sam might be holding back too. Of course, he isn't talking much period, not with that voice cracking so bad.
"I still think we should drop by, at least for a few minutes. I would like to know about our father, and see his work," I add.
With this, Sam opens up his mouth wide again, but this time in a huge yawn instead of a burp.
"I think you should take a nap before we get ready to go," I say, just as Sam says, "I think I should go upstairs and take a nap." We both crack smiles at saying the same thing at the same time.
"You go take a nap and then start getting ready. I'll clean up and look around a bit."
Sam stands up and stretches his arms over his head as he turns to go. I notice that his shirt raises from his waist, leaving a small crack of skin showing. I just got him that shirt two days ago, and he's already outgrown it? What, two inches plus since then. Okay, maybe an inch, but still. Maybe he hasn't outgrown it, but he'll need new clothes again soon.
I clean up the dishes it a minute. The kitchen is so organized that I find what I need quickly. Only two plates and glasses. A knife or two. I should have gone slower. Now, I have to look for dad's art, in a great big house that I still don't know my way around.
No comments:
Post a Comment