Son for Hire: Chapter 62

Carefully stepping in among Evelyn’s grandpa’s belongings I begin to search around.  Kit was right, there was a lot of cool shit in here.  My sister looks up at me with a smile as we share a tiny unspoken moment of jubilation.  For us this was like opening birthday presents combined with the fun of an Easter egg hunt.  Seeing her smile like that made me so happy that I had brought her along for my big move.  She deserved this.  It also made me so very grateful for Evelyn and grandpa and even Alan.  I was a very happy and humble boy as I come to sit down beside Kitty.  I look back at Evelyn who watches me and encourages me.

I touch the pottery wheel.  I feel glossy smooth curve of the bow.  I flick at the feathers of the arrows and fiddle with the fishing rod.  But as my hands explore these more active or crafty options my eyes were drawn again and again to the wooden easel and the art supplies gathered around it.  I did enjoy doodling and when I was kid I was always coloring or painting or drawing on the sidewalk with chalk.  

I glance back again at Evelyn to see if I could sense what she might prefer.  I worried that there might be a right or a wrong choice in her eyes.  But she held any preference of her own close to her chest as she watches me with a piqued curiosity.  “Go ahead.”  She nods to me.

Reaching down to the base of the folded easel I lift a wooden large wooden case and rest it on my lap.  I flick open the latch and look inside.  There were brushes and palettes and tubes of paint.  There was little wear to any of it and some of tubes looked unopened.  It seemed art was one of her grandpa’s less practiced hobbies.

Catching my vibe Kit sidles up next to me and pulls up another case.  This one had all sorts of supplies for drawing and coloring.  Fancy looking pencils, pastels, inks, quills, and the like.  Behind the easel was stacked unused canvases as well a few high quality sketch pads.  It was all so…I don’t know, professional?  For a guy who doodled with mechanical pencils on used envelopes, who grew up coloring with bags of nubby mismatched crayons bought from thrift shops, whose experience with paints consisted of playing around with those children’s watercolor sets with the single slim flaccid bristled brush, all of this stuff looked like supplies only a serious artist ought to touch.

I hadn’t even said anything but my sister already knew my choice.

“You always were a good artist.”  She says.

“I wasn’t.”

She smiles and sets the drawing case beside her.  Looking back to Evelyn she says.  “I think he’s chosen.”

“My boy is an artist.”  She beams.  “I had a little feeling he might be.”

“I’m not an artist.”  I whisper.  Closing the case I latch it and hug it to my body.  “You sure you don’t mind?”

“They’re already yours baby.”  She says warmly.  “I expect to see some of what you make.”

“It will be bad.”

“Donald.”

“Yes Ma’am.”  I say, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside.  Looking over to Kitty I ask.  “What are you choosing?”

“I dunno.  The yoga mat for sure, and some of the smaller weights.”  She pokes at her soft tummy.  “I could firm up a bit, don’t ya think?”

I give her an approving nod.  I really liked the idea of Kit looking after her health.  To my mind every step toward wellness was another step away from the destructive path she’d been on.  Once more I am overwhelmed with gratitude for Mom’s generosity.  I loved her so much.  What words could I use?  What actions could I do?  How could I ever express to her how much she meant to me?  As I look over to her she looked every bit as happy as I was, as if my joy and hers were just the same.  Setting the case back down I hurry back into her arms.  She takes me in her embrace and hugs me close.

“Thank you.”  I say as I lay my head on her shoulder and nuzzle into her neck.

“You are welcome.”  She rubs my back.  “You are so very welcome my prince.”

“Oh Mum…”

“Ahem!”  Kitty clears her voice loudly to remind us that she was still there.  To my surprise however her interjection wasn’t a hint to stop, but a request to join in!  As I turn I find my sister standing right beside us with her arms out to Evelyn.

Evelyn chuckles, kisses my head, then lets go of me to give Kitty a big Mommy hug too.  Not surprised by it this time Kit leans into the soft warm embrace with a great big smile on her face.  It wasn’t the same kind of embrace as Evelyn gave me, warm but with a proper polite distance to it, like a hug between friends.  Mom had to be careful lest the secret beneath her skirt be revealed.  With a fey glint in her eyes Kit peeks over Evelyn’s shoulder and sticks her tongue out at me, knowing full well she’d cut in on my hug.  I roll my eyes and playfully scowl back at her.

“Thanks for everything Evelyn.”

“Of course.”  She pats Kitty’s curly hair.  “Welcome home my dear.”

They part and Kitty claps then rubs her hands.  “Well…shall we get to moving this stuff?”

“NO!”  I point to her.  “Not we, me.”

“Hmm?”

“You are not getting me in trouble again.”  I say.

“Me?”  She bats her eyes way too innocently.  “Trouble?”

“I’ll ask Alan to help when he gets home.”  I insist, hoping that might score a few points to the positive in his books.  “You are off carrying duty.”

Kitty brings her hands to her belly and starts to rub it.  “Aww, are you worried about the bun you put in my oven?  You are going to make such a good daddy for our sweet little baby.”

“PFFT!”  Evelyn clamps a hand over mouth to hold back a guffaw at Kitty’s silliness.

“EWWWWW!”  I squick out at the very thought as the other two break out into laughter.  

“But if you insist darling I won’t lift a finger to help.  It’s a sacrifice I am willing to make for our family.”  She leans down and speaks to her own stomach.  “You hear that?  Daddy’s looking after Mommy so good.”

“Bllech!”  I wave Kitty away.  “Get outta here wench!  Go wait in the truck, we still have shopping to do.”

“You hear this treatment?  You hear him ordering me around like that?”  Kitty acts offended, holding her belly as if protecting our unborn offspring.  God she was really hamming it up.  “Evelyn you really ought to speak with your son.”

Loving every second of this banter and happy to pile on Evelyn nods and through a belly laugh says.  “Oh I will my dear.”  She shakes a stern finger my way.  “That’s my daughter-in-law you’re speaking to young man.”

“Oh my God!”  I exclaim.  “Don’t encourage her!”

They laugh and laugh, and so do I.

Chapter 63