behind some serious onion breath.”
“I suppose it’s a good thing I like onions then,” he said with a chuckle.
“I like you, Saul. You’re funny.”
“I try my best,” he said as he set his chopsticks down on a napkin. “And I like you too.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course. Anything.”
“Was it wrong of me? To leave dinner?”
He leaned back, resting on his arms, and uncrossed his legs. “I think right now, whatever you need to do for yourself is the right thing. Within reason, of course. You’ve been through a really horrific experience, and it’s just gonna take time.”
The fire was warming the room finally. I set my own chopsticks down and closed the container of chicken, setting it aside.
“Looks like there’s leftovers,” I said.
“We can have them tomorrow. I’ll go toss ’em in the fridge.”
“Want me to do that?” I asked.
“Nah, I need to change my shirt anyway. Dropped Mongolian on it.”
He stood and gathered the food containers and left the room. I stood and walked to a wall that housed a bank of bookshelves. Some held books, all hard bound, and others held framed photos and a few odds-n-ends. The room had begun to grow darker with evening approaching and shadows were creeping into the corners. The firelight was soothing. I turned when I heard Saul returning from the kitchen.
“Hey,” I whispered.
“Hey yourself. I brought some wine in if you want some?”
He held out two cobalt blue wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. I wasn't a big wine drinker, but after the surprise appearance of my father and his wife, I nodded my head. He walked to the coffee table, where he poured each glass about half full.
“Nice shirt,” I said.
He had come back wearing a button-up in vertical yellow and gray stripes. I turned back to the photos on his shelves. One of them in particular was of an older man and a young boy holding fishing poles. The boy held a fishing string with five trout, all of them on the small side. The older man had an arm around him and both were grinning.
I could sense Saul standing behind me.
“Is that you?” I asked.
“Uh-huh. I was oh… maybe nine years old there? And that was my Pops: my grandpa. He used to take me fishing every summer. Just me and him.”
“He loved you,” I said absently.
“The feeling was mutual.”
“This was his place?”
“Yup. He died last year. My sister and I were probably the only ones who ever went to visit him once he went senile. His own kids put him in a group home, but the staff said no one else ever came to visit except me and Lina. I would have come to live with him here instead of putting him in that home, but my aunt and uncle refused.” He sighed heavily. “They trumped me in ‘next of kin’ order.”
“And in the end he willed the place to you?”
“Yeah. He left it all to me and my sister. The house, the land, and what money was left. Oh man, the looks on their faces when the attorney read the will.”
“Sounds like you were good to him, Saul.”
“I’d give it all back to have him here again. Grandpa Perry was the greatest guy. Kind, gentle, and funny as heck. When my own folks passed away I was only twenty. He was the only one who helped me out. I was an adult according to the rest of the family, so should be able to fend for myself. The truth is I was a mess. My sister was just sixteen, but they had the same opinion there. Pops left her enough money for college, so she headed to the East Coast as soon as she was able to access her part of the trust when she turned twenty this year.”
I turned to face him and took the glass of wine that he held out. “Do you think she’ll ever come home?” I asked.
He shrugged. “It’s hard to say. Our parents dying was hard on us both, but especially her. I fly back to Virginia a couple times a year to check on her.”
“Mind if I ask how your parents died?” I took a sip of the wine and found it to be unexpectedly smooth and
“I suppose it’s a good thing I like onions then,” he said with a chuckle.
“I like you, Saul. You’re funny.”
“I try my best,” he said as he set his chopsticks down on a napkin. “And I like you too.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course. Anything.”
“Was it wrong of me? To leave dinner?”
He leaned back, resting on his arms, and uncrossed his legs. “I think right now, whatever you need to do for yourself is the right thing. Within reason, of course. You’ve been through a really horrific experience, and it’s just gonna take time.”
The fire was warming the room finally. I set my own chopsticks down and closed the container of chicken, setting it aside.
“Looks like there’s leftovers,” I said.
“We can have them tomorrow. I’ll go toss ’em in the fridge.”
“Want me to do that?” I asked.
“Nah, I need to change my shirt anyway. Dropped Mongolian on it.”
He stood and gathered the food containers and left the room. I stood and walked to a wall that housed a bank of bookshelves. Some held books, all hard bound, and others held framed photos and a few odds-n-ends. The room had begun to grow darker with evening approaching and shadows were creeping into the corners. The firelight was soothing. I turned when I heard Saul returning from the kitchen.
“Hey,” I whispered.
“Hey yourself. I brought some wine in if you want some?”
He held out two cobalt blue wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. I wasn't a big wine drinker, but after the surprise appearance of my father and his wife, I nodded my head. He walked to the coffee table, where he poured each glass about half full.
“Nice shirt,” I said.
He had come back wearing a button-up in vertical yellow and gray stripes. I turned back to the photos on his shelves. One of them in particular was of an older man and a young boy holding fishing poles. The boy held a fishing string with five trout, all of them on the small side. The older man had an arm around him and both were grinning.
I could sense Saul standing behind me.
“Is that you?” I asked.
“Uh-huh. I was oh… maybe nine years old there? And that was my Pops: my grandpa. He used to take me fishing every summer. Just me and him.”
“He loved you,” I said absently.
“The feeling was mutual.”
“This was his place?”
“Yup. He died last year. My sister and I were probably the only ones who ever went to visit him once he went senile. His own kids put him in a group home, but the staff said no one else ever came to visit except me and Lina. I would have come to live with him here instead of putting him in that home, but my aunt and uncle refused.” He sighed heavily. “They trumped me in ‘next of kin’ order.”
“And in the end he willed the place to you?”
“Yeah. He left it all to me and my sister. The house, the land, and what money was left. Oh man, the looks on their faces when the attorney read the will.”
“Sounds like you were good to him, Saul.”
“I’d give it all back to have him here again. Grandpa Perry was the greatest guy. Kind, gentle, and funny as heck. When my own folks passed away I was only twenty. He was the only one who helped me out. I was an adult according to the rest of the family, so should be able to fend for myself. The truth is I was a mess. My sister was just sixteen, but they had the same opinion there. Pops left her enough money for college, so she headed to the East Coast as soon as she was able to access her part of the trust when she turned twenty this year.”
I turned to face him and took the glass of wine that he held out. “Do you think she’ll ever come home?” I asked.
He shrugged. “It’s hard to say. Our parents dying was hard on us both, but especially her. I fly back to Virginia a couple times a year to check on her.”
“Mind if I ask how your parents died?” I took a sip of the wine and found it to be unexpectedly smooth and
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