Dada: Chapter 15a

   "Here, take the shirt and let's go upstairs to get ready."
   I could tell that Sam was a little apprehensive about the shirt, at least I was sure it was going to fit.  I put the other shirt back in my bag and close it up, b before picking each bag up and starting upstairs.
   "What about the buttons?" Sam pipes up.  "Should we just leave them here?"
    "I can't even see where they all went.  I'm sure I saw one roll down the stairs."  I walk past him, able to look down at him once again.  I stop on the landing to wait for him to catch up.  I nod at the cabinet hiding the rear stairs.  "Do you know why those stairs are blocked?  It would make it faster to get to the kitchen from here if it were kept open."
    Sam started at the question.  Doesn't seem to be a big deal.
    "I honestly don't remember why, uh , mom wanted to do that," Sam squeaked.  "It was never an issue.  Come on, I'll show you the upstairs.  It's a little weird."  Sam quickly went ahead of me.  Nervously, he looked back at me and the door.  "Don't just stand there.  We've got a lot to do."
    I follow Sam up to another landing just a few steps ahead.  I guess they made it this way so that there would be an even floor over the entry.  Unlike the back stairs, nothing sat at this landing.  At least there was a window that allowed sunlight to showcase the small, nondescript paintings lining the walls.  None seemed to be my father's type of work, but they didn't look like anything he favored either.
    "Do you know about these pictures?  They don't seem to match the others I've seen."
    "Oh, I think mom picked those.  She liked that sort of thing.  Didn't really get into some of ...." Sam drifted off as we climbed the last turn of the staircase.
      We ended up along a fairly wide hall, at least two feet wider than the back hall.  Five doors lined the long wall to my front.  The left end had another door.  The right end had a small window.  It was the opposite of the downstairs hall in many ways.  The doors were not evenly spaced, with three crowding the left, but only two on the right.
    "My room is the first on the left.  The bathroom is right here."  With this, he opened the door just to our left along the wall.  "I guess the guest room is the first one to the right."  He pointed behind us to the door just to the right of the stairs. Unlike the long wall, only two doors were on each of the short ones.
    "It won't take me long to finish getting ready.  Are we going to eat here, or eat out again?"  I could practically hear his stomach growling again.
     "We'll eat on the way."  Sam was already entering his room before I could finish talking.
     "Okay," I hear him mumble as he shuts his door.
     I walk into the guest room, but it's a mess.  From the crib in the corner, I'm guessing this was once the nursery.  A small, unmade bed with just a plain mattress on it is shoved against the window in front of me.  A door on my left looks like it leads to a closet.  While somewhat narrow, the room is long.  I figure it's ten feet by twenty-five or so.  Still bigger than my old bedroom.
    I drop my bags on the bed.  There's nothing else in here but a small bachelor's stand with a tiny kiddie lamp on top.  I can't sleep here.  I can't even get dressed here.  I make my mind up and decide to look around.  If this had been the nursery, then I know what rooms are across the hall.  It has to be.
     I take the first door across the hall, the one next to the bathroom.  I am right; it's the master bedroom.  It has to be at least thirty by thirty.  A California king bed lies against the wall on the right. A large bureau and dresser are beside it.  Slightly smaller cabinets line the wall to my right. A three panel dressing mirror sits right in front of them, reflecting the painting over the bed, again it doesn't look like something my dad would like, as well as a mirror on the ceiling.  Okay.  A door to the left heads to the master bath.  It looks like it's about the same size as the main bath, so I don't really get why they needed one, except for more privacy.  A door on the right leads to a rather large closet.  It's large enough to have its own door to the hallway.  Maybe these were originally two rooms.
    My dad's room, well the room he shared with his wife.  Her tastes are all over this room, but I have yet felt my dad's presence here, not like I did in the library.  Where is he here, in his own room?