4. Chapter Four #3
After a moment, he laughed. “Well, that would be logical. First Avenue is just that—the first. I live on Fourth Avenue, to give you a sense of the lay of the land.”
“Okay, got it. That’s up the hill I saw?”
“Yes, exactly.” He turned left. “First Avenue is also part of the highway that runs through town. Much lower speed limit, of course. And there are cops, so be careful.”
“Uh, I don’t intend to drive.”
“Why not? I’ll give you keys so you can get around.
I’ll show you how the GPS works. Marty wanted fancy, but I put my foot down said it needed to be simple.
I might be tech savvy, but I don’t want to be struggling with things when I’m in the car.
” He pulled into a parallel parking space on the left-hand side of the one-way street.
“I’m running in to grab the food. Would you like to come? ”
I shook my head. “Thanks anyway. I mean, if you trust me in your—”
He waved me off, shut the door, and headed into the restaurant.
Silly thing to say. Of course he trusts you — he’s just invited you to stay in his home for fuck’s sake.
Whether that was a sane thing to do, I couldn’t say.
Not something I might’ve ever done. You don’t know that.
You’ve never been presented with these circumstances.
Maybe you would’ve taken pity on some random stranger and —
Zahir opened the door, handed me the food, and then slid into the driver’s seat. “It’s hot.”
Heat radiated from the paper bag. “In a good way.”
“Yes.” He buckled his seat belt and started the SUV. “Home?”
What…? Oh. “Uh, yeah, thanks. I’ll call Demetrius after dinner. ”
Zahir maneuvered us into traffic and then turned right.
The steepness of the climb surprised me as I held on tightly to the food. Soon enough, he turned right. “This is Fourth Avenue?”
He chuckled. “This is the back alley. My garage is off the laneway, and that’s where the parking is.
There are a couple of spots in front of my house, but I leave those for people visiting or even other residents.
I have two spots and I have two vehicles.
Works brilliantly.” He pulled up to a free-standing garage and hit a button.
Slowly the door rose—revealing a little white car.
“That’s cute.”
“It’s a little peppy thing. I prefer driving stick with all the hills, but Marty couldn’t stand it. Each to their own. Okay, let’s get everything unloaded and into the house—then we can eat.”
I sort of liked how he felt he could talk about Marty with me.
Gave me a sense of intimacy. Of course, maybe he spoke of his dead husband to everyone—what did I know?
I certainly never spoke of my mother. And she’d never spoken of her parents.
Now she was gone, I was truly alone in the world.
You’re not alone — you have a half-brother who says he’d like to meet you.
That’s someone. I eased out of the SUV and put the bag of food on the seat while I slung my backpack over my shoulder.
Then I grabbed the food and followed Zahir out of the garage, across a lovely lawn, and into a two-story house.
After unlocking the door and opening it, he disarmed the alarm and gestured for me to follow him in.
The kitchen was airy, spacious, and very modern. I didn’t know much about stuff—but this wasn’t anything like the old houses I’d seen. After putting the bag of food on the table, I turned to Zahir. “This is a nice place.”
“Let’s grab our bags. Had we decided on showering or eating first? I can’t remember. ”
I pressed a hand to my stomach. “I vote for eating first. I’m starving.”
He grinned. “Great. Let’s get our suitcases and then we can wash our hands and eat.” He put his laptop case on one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “A tour as well, I think, is in order.”
“That sounds…amazing.” Truthfully, I hadn’t known what to expect. The outside of the house was white vinyl with forest-green trim around the windows. I was curious what the front looked like, and I reminded myself to take a picture. Documenting this part of my journey felt super important.
We brought our suitcases inside, and I followed Zahir up the stairs and took a moment to appreciate his fine ass in those khaki pants that somehow were nearly wrinkle-free while I felt like a disaster area—grubby, smelly, and reeking of gross sweat. “Uh…maybe I should have a shower first.”
At the top of the landing, Zahir gestured for me to head toward what I’d oriented to be the front of the house.
I did as he wanted, and I stepped into a room with bright light streaming in from the window. The air was stuffy, and a sense of disuse permeated the space.
“One sec.” Zahir disappeared and, a minute later, reappeared. “Why don’t you shower and I’ll do a quick clean in here? It, uh…” He gazed around, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I can absolutely stay in the other spare bedroom. Or a couch. Or I can—”
He stepped forward to place a hand on my arm.
“It’s time, Andre. You being here is going to force me to deal with things I’ve put off for over a year.
” He swallowed. “Marty arranged to have all his things removed after his death. Everything. I didn’t even have his cologne left.
He thought that would be easier. I was so distraught, I didn’t think to argue.
And I had our precious dog to care for. Who died of a broken heart the next week and suddenly—” He squeezed my arm.
“It’s been over a year. It’s time for me to reclaim this space. ”
“You don’t keep your clothes in here?” I’d figured he just didn’t sleep in here.
He shook his head. “I moved everything to the spare room. It’s a tight fit, but I’m not a clothes horse by any extent of the imagination.
I have a few nice suits for work and plenty of jeans, but that’s about it.
” He offered a small smile. “Again, Marty was the guy who really needed the walk-in closet. And he donated all his clothes to charity—so I can’t fault him for that.
He thought by planning everything he could leave me unencumbered.
In truth, with nothing to do, I was at a loss for what my purpose was. ”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Eventually work came calling. Marty had good life insurance. I was set up for life, if I wanted to be.”
“But you didn’t.” I couldn’t rationally explain my understanding of this man—but I knew he wouldn’t be content being lazy.
“No, I didn’t. I went back to work. Idle hands and all that.”
I cocked my head.
“Idle hands are the devil’s tools.” He held my gaze. “No?”
I shook my head.
“Ah. An expression Marty loved to use—as justification for keeping so damn busy. He was always on the go…and therefore didn’t have time to get into mischief. There’s an etymology to go with that.” He scratched his cheek. “And now I feel like I want to look it up.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t quite certain where he was going with this. “So you went back to work so you wouldn’t…get up to mischief. ”
He grinned. “Something like that. Shower now and we’ll eat. Here—I’ll open the windows and turn on the ceiling fan. That’ll get the air moving.”
“Thank you.” The words felt completely inadequate—but they were all I could offer up.
“My pleasure, Andre. I’ll take care of you, okay? Just…trust me.”
“I do. Truly.”
And I did.
Maybe I shouldn’t have…but I did.