Give Me Something by Elizabeth Lee Page A

half a dozen vintage looking throw pillows.  The walls were painted a muted shade of gray-blue, and the soft, plush rug under our feet was the kind of rug you just wanted to lie down and roll around on.  If a room could give you a hug, it was this one.  A flat screen television hung above a cabinet that stretched the length of the wall.  The top of it was covered with framed photographs of Tucker and his family.  It made me sad to think that was all he had left of them. 
    “ You're mom was beautiful,” I said, pointing to the one photograph that hung on the wall.  In the photo, Tucker's mom and dad were each holding his hand and smiling down at him as they walked through what appeared to be a park.  Tucker was a dark haired, wide-eyed toddler.  “What was her name?”
    “ Renee,” he said with a warm smile. I could tell he only had fond memories of his mother.  He was only six when she passed away so his father's effort of keeping her memory alive had paid off.  Renee was tall and slender.  Her hair was long and the color matched Tucker's.  Other than the hair, Tucker looked just like his dad – tall and athletic.  The blue eyes were all Mr. Kline.  Even in a photograph, those eyes could look into your soul.  It was hard not to get lost in them.  He went on about his parents for a while.  It was nice to hear someone talk about his parents in a loving way.  When I left my parents, I made a concentrated effort to bury any good memories I had.  The more time that passed, the less guilty I felt about having left them. 
    “ Must have been nice growing up with all this?” I looked around at his lavish home.
    “ You'd think so,” he chuckled, “but believe it or not my dad actually made me get a job when I was fourteen.  Wanted to instill a good work ethic in me.”
    “ Hmm.” I was impressed.  I'd taken him for a spoil rich kid that had everything handed to him.
    “ My dad was kind of a tight wad,” he said.  “Everyone always assumed that because we lived in a nice house and my dad made good money that I got whatever I wanted.  Not true.” He shook his head.
    “ Really?”
    “ Yeah, I mean, I never got a pet monkey or the private plane I wanted,” he deadpanned.
    “ What?”
    He started laughing. “I'm kidding, Lila.  I would have never asked for that shit. My childhood was really good.  Despite the fact that my mom died, I lived a pretty cushy life, but that's not to say I wasn't raised to be grateful for everything that I have.”
    “That's a good thing.” I smiled.
    “ It's always bugged me that some people are so resentful of well-off people. It's not like my dad didn't bust his ass for everything we had.”  He suddenly became very serious.  “I plan on working just as hard for what I want, too.  I don't expect anyone to hand me anything.”
    “ I think that's great, Tucker.” I rested my head on his shoulder.  I didn't want him to look into my eyes and see how guilty he was making me feel for being the exact kind of person he'd just described.
    “ Tell me about your parents?” he asked.
    Here we go .   I knew that Tucker just wanted to get to know me, but I didn't like to talk about my parents with anyone.  My parents weren't horrible people.  I didn't have a traumatic childhood or some awful sob story.  My parents and I just didn't see eye to eye.
    “ There's not much to tell.”
    “ That sucks.  Why?”
    “ We're just too different.  My parents don't understand me.”
    “ That's too bad,” he offered with a sympathetic grin and grabbed my hand. “What about your brother?”
    I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep breath. “What about him?” I sat up.  I didn't remember telling Tucker about my brother, but lately I'd been so all over the place, between Nick and him, that I must have mentioned Harry at one time or another.  My brother was exactly what my parents wanted when they had kids.  He'd been perfectly content with the life my parents gave