Chapter 15: Room Tour

Chapter 15

It was a rare thing to see my mother's kitchen looking anything but spotless, but I'd long ago learned that when Timmy was involved, anything was possible. The floors and the counters were a mess of flour and sugar and Timmy himself was covered from head to toes in the stuff.

I stood by the entrance watching as my mom held the little guy close as he stood on the chair, mixing some form of sweet concoction in one of her large mixing bowls. He had his tongue stuck out, curling at the top of his lip as he focused on the job before him and my mother was equally enthralled as she instructed him every step of the way. Enthralled and happy I noticed; taking in the rosiness of her cheeks and the smiles that blossomed on her face whenever Timmy spoke his usual nonsense. She was in love and loving every second of it.

Timmy had that effect on people.

I glanced over at Jason who was leaning against the wall, his own eyes fixed on the scene before him and as though he sensed my gaze, he glanced over at me and I nodded in the direction of the other room.

He followed me without hesitation and so we left the chefs to whatever it was that they were doing.

"I think it's time you got the official tour." I told him when we were alone in the family room and his immediate response was to glance around the large space; his eyes taking everything in that he had been too shy to pay much attention to earlier.

"This is where you grew up right?"

"Yup." I said, glancing around the space I knew like the back of my hand. "Lived here all my life."

I watched him walk over to the wall of photographs I'd seen him eyeing earlier and I followed, coming to a stop close behind him as he inspected them.

"You look really happy in these."

I looked at each of them in turn and nodded. "I was happy...still am."

He picked up a frame from the side table. "Yeah, but you don't smile like this."

I shrugged despite the fact that he wasn't looking at me "I was a bit overly enthusiastic back then."

"And chubby."

I chuckled. "Yeah and chubby...until I found the great world of sports anyway."

"I used to run." He offered and I listened in hopes that he'd tell me more. Volunteering information about himself wasn't his strong suit. "Back when I was in school...I even got my very own medal. It's back at my parent's house though." He continued. "Maybe they threw it out already."

"You can still run you know. They have programs all over town."

He shook his head and replaced the photo. "Nah." Was all he said and this time I didn't push.

"Come on I'll show you the rest of the place."

And by 'rest of the place' I meant my old bedroom. He followed me down the hall and up the stairs, his eyes missing nothing as he went.  It was the last door at the end of the hall with the black doorknob and solitary splash of paint across the center, which I'd thought was damn cool at the time.

When I pushed it and went in, his eyes went where everyone's eyes tended to go whenever they were invited into the space; to the trophy shelf.

It took up an entire wall and was the only thing that gave any real character to the room.

"You got a lot a awards."

I nodded. Badminton, football, soccer, chess and wrestling. "I was sorta sports-obsessed back in high school."

"Sorta?" he said in clear awe as I sat on the bed and watched him take it all in.

His eyes raked over everything and he touched as many things as he observed—holding them up for closer inspection or just running his fingers across their surface. He picked up the dirty, deflated soccer ball I'd punctured at the last game of the season in my senior year, touched every dart in my collection and took an especially long time observing each poster that hung on my wall. He lingered longer over the photos I'd glued to the white board at one corner of the room—photos of friends from high school and college, photos of me and my sister at her sixteenth birthday party and photos of me and my dad by the lake.

He was fascinated and I felt like I could watch him for hours.

"How come you got a bicycle wheel on the wall?"

I grinned. "It's from the first bike I ruined."

He ran his fingers over the dented metal and over the mangled rubber. "You ruined more than one?"

I shrugged. "A few." And when he glanced over at me with a raised brow, I laughed.

"I thought I was something of a daredevil back then. When I crashed the last one, dad banned me from riding."

He moved on from it with a nod and when he came to a stop by the stacked bookshelf I knew we'd be in there for a while.

I flopped backwards onto the bed, an arm behind my head and allowed my eyes to drift shut. It felt good to have him here in my childhood home. It felt significant somehow and after the initial embarrassing moments at lunch, I was sure Jason had begun to enjoy my mom's company. She'd talked from his first bite of her buttered corn to his last swallow of her glazed ham sandwich and I'd been surprised at how much he partook in the conversation.

"No gwammy!" I opened my eyes and listened to Timmy's voice which had drifted up the stairs. Apparently he wasn't getting his way.

"Oh sweetheart you can't eat that yet, we have to bake it first." Mom was telling him.

"No gwammy, Timmy haf eat now."

Gwammy; Timmy's version of what she'd invited him to call her no doubt.

"Timmy?" Jason called out.

"Yes daddy?" he shouted up.

"Behave."

All was silent after that and I grinned, allowing my eyes to drift close again. Only Jason could set the kid straight.  I'd long ago stopped wondering if I'd ever have to heart to discipline him. It was obvious that it just wasn't in me; the kid had me wrapped around his finger and it wasn't an entirely bad feeling.

I stifled a yawn and glanced over at Jason. I should have known lunch with my mother would run into dinner time. Another yawn had my eyes watering and I closed my eyes briefly to clear them.

When next I opened them, it was to the sound of a vehicle entering the driveway and I glanced at the clock on the room wall. I'd slept for a little over half an hour.

On the ground in front of the bookshelf Jason sat with books strewn around him and one open before him.

"You can take them with you if you want." I told him and he glanced around at them, then up at me.

"You sure?"

I sat up rolling my shoulders before I finally stood. "Yeah I don't mind. Take them all if you feel like it." And a moment later I was out the door and walking down the hall where I stopped at the very top of the stairs to await my father's entrance into the house.

Standing here atop the staircase brought back memories of many a childhood evenings where I stood in this same spot waiting for my dad to get home from work. It was with relief that I'd stood here with back then. Relief because he'd made it home after another day on the job. Relief that we hadn't gotten that knock on the door from one of his colleagues reporting some tragedy of which he was the protagonist.

When he'd been promoted chief we'd all let out a sigh of relief. A desk job was better—safer.

Funny how it was a desk job that I was now running away from.

I heard the front door give way and a gust of wind entered with my old man. I could picture him stomping his feet to get off any dirt he'd trailed in from the driveway. Then there was the sound of shoelaces being pulled and boots being discarded for more comfortable shoes.

Years had passed, but the routine remained the same. I listened to the shuffling of his feet as he made his way to the kitchen where mom always tended to be when he got home.

"Our boy still here?" I heard him question her, but it was Timmy who replied.

"Gwamy waz him?"

"That's Papa sweetheart."

"Popy?"

"Yup he's your popy." She went with it. "He just came in from work."

"You sure you want to be telling him that?" I heard dad question which was quickly following by her sigh.

"You worry too much." She admonished before I heard more shuffling and the clatter of utensils against the counter.

"Hold on Timmy. Let me help you down sweetheart." Mom was saying.

Then the pounding of little bare feet sounded on the wooden floors and my father's grunt as though something had smacked into him.

"Lif?"

I smiled. I could easily imagine the little devil standing before my father on his tip toes with his arms raised impatiently above him. It surprised me how taken he was with my dad. Ever since the first day he'd met him he'd been seemingly unafraid of approaching him. Yet with anyone else he reverted to the shy little boy I'd met that first night in my home.

I pictured my dad with his ever-present serious expression and narrowed eyes that made even the toughest of men wilt and wondered what it was that Timmy saw that told him the old man was a safe friend to have.

"Hey now, don't you want to help Diana? You just gonna leave it all up to her?" dad was questioning in his best 'kids' voice.

"No lif popy."

I leaned against the banister.

"You think that's very responsible? Shirking you duties like that?" he continued and I shook my head.

Yeah dad, teach a kid about something he couldn't even pronounce the word for.

"Alright, alright. Don't you start with those tears you hear me. Come on."

Another huff from dad and a sniffle from the spoilt kid that was Timmy and I knew the devil had gotten his way.

"Now what?" my dad questioned and when Timmy's gibberish began, I heard them coming down the hallway.

"No idea what you're saying kid."

I watched them from above as they walked down the hall— Timmy with his arms wrapped around the old man's neck as they went and for a brief moment dad looked up, caught my eye and nodded in greeting before they walked out of sight.

It was then that a thought occurred to me and I turned on my heels and retraced my steps back the way I'd come and came to a stop in the doorway of my room.

"How'd you like to see the lake?" I questioned and Jason glanced up at me from his spot on the floor.

"You mean the lake you told me about?"

"Yeah, what'd you think?"

"Okay." He nodded slowly, then glanced back at the book in his hands.

This nerd.

"I meant right now, while it's still light out."

Once again he tore his gaze from the book with furrowed brows. "But your mom's hanging with Timmy now."

"We'll leave him."

He frowned.

"It's only for an hour or two, he'll be fine."

"He aint gonna wanna stay." He mumbled; lips turning down into the cutest pout and I couldn't help but to smile.

"He will...he's comfortable here."

"But—"

"You worry too much. We're going...come on."

"You don't understand Michael, Timmy aint—"

"Timmy's fine." I stepped into the space and offered a hand which he took and I pulled him to his feet.

When he'd deposited the book carefully onto the bed, I closed my fingers between his and pulled him with me out of the room. With his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, he followed without a word as we went across the hall, down the stairs and down the other hall which would take us out back where I could hear my dad talking to Timmy.

I stopped just by the screen door and put a finger to my lips as I pushed it open without a sound. Jason peered out into the backyard where my dad stood with Timmy in his arms, pointing to the tools in his shed.

"...so you see, everything has its place. Diana doesn't think they're important." Dad was telling an engrossed Timmy. "but a man's tools are damned important."

"Dam powtent"

"I mean darned.Say darned instead." Dad corrected. "How old are you anyway? You're too young to curse...say darned."

"Dawn."

Dad shrugged. "Close enough." Then he reached into his tool shed and pulled out one of his special, limited edited hammers.

"Now this one I got at an auction last spring. Couldn't even find it online" he showed it to Timmy. "Here, feel that." He held it out and Timmy ran his fingers along the shaft. "See? Now that's what you call good quality."

"Good qwaty?"

"Yup...best there is."

I turned to Jason with raised brows and when he caught me staring he sighed. "Okay. I guess he can stay for a little bit...but we can't leave him too long cause he gets—"

"Yeah yeah...come on." I pulled him away from the door and back down the hall, pausing only briefly at the kitchen door to tell mom where we were headed, before we were out the front door and back in my car.

"Is it far?" he asked as soon as I backed the car into the street.

Always worried about his little Timmy.  "It's just a little over a mile up the road."

"You used to go there all the time right?"

"Yup. Dad would take me and my sister out there every weekend." I told him. "Mom would load up the car with more food than we needed and we'd stay up there all day, swimming, eating and just having a good time." I smiled at the memory.

"Where does your sister live?"

"Miami."

I glanced at him briefly, glad he seemed more outspoken today.

"How come she moved so far?"

"Well she went to college there, got a great job right after, met her husband and never looked back."

He was frowning when I glanced at him briefly. "She doesn't visit?"

I shrugged. "As often as she can."

"Hmm."

"Maybe we can take a trip over there. My niece isn't much older than Timmy so they'll have fun together."

He was looking at me when I glanced over again—brows furrowed and eyes narrowed in concentration. "Maybe."

Always uncertain, always the skeptic. I turned my eyes back to the road, coming to a stop at the traffic light. This time when I looked at him he was fidgeting with my phone. There was never a time I got it back from him and there wasn't some new app on it that I had to figure out how to use.

I smiled...something I did so often now that I wondered if anybody would ever take me seriously again.

"Maybe you should download a game for Timmy." I suggested, only to have him disagree with a shake of his head.

"He'll only break your phone. Just like he broke the tablet you got him for Christmas." He reminded me with a knowing raise of the brow.

Yup, broke it after only four days and made me waste all that money—Jason's words, not mine.

"Maybe he'll be gentle this time." I tried to persuade him. "He's learning."

He shook his head without looking up and when the light changed to green, I stepped on the gas.

"You know I read this article the other day that said children tend to learn better through games." I continued and this time I glanced over to see him watching me. "Educational games I mean...They're having so much fun they don't even realize they're getting anything from it."

"Timmy has plenty a games now remember?"

"Yeah but I mean like electronic games..."

"You let him play games on your computer all the time." He argued.

I nodded slowly. "Yeah but maybe he can have a game on the go. You know, something portable."

"If you give him your phone he's gonna break it." He said with a characteristic frown. "And you know it too."

"He can't break it if he'll just be sitting in the back seat."

"He can throw it out the window."

"He wouldn't—"

"You know he would." He interrupted and I sighed. Yeah he would.

When I finally turned onto the road leading to the lake I announced our arrival and he sat up, glancing out the window to take in the lush trees on either side of the narrow street.

"This is the entrance." I told him. "We'll have to continue along this road to get to the exit."

I parked in a small clearing not far down the way and got out.

The place seemed to be empty of any other people; which was just the way I'd liked it growing up and the way I liked it now. Too many people tended to take away from the peacefulness of the lake, which was what was what held the attraction.

When Jason stepped out of the car he looked around, tilting his head back so he could look at the very tops of the trees. A slight breeze was on the air and the only smells that wafted with it was the scent of nature.

I felt the usual tingle in my toes at being here. This was home.

I turned to Jason and pointed over his shoulder. "The lake's that way, through the trees." I told him. "Next time we'll take Timmy and—"

A bloodcurdling scream ripped through the air and Jason and I both froze. It was a sound completely set apart from the tranquility of nature around us and it was as chilling as it was misplaced.

Jason looked toward the direction it had come, them back at me with wide eyes and the second I took a step, another sound rose up in the still forestry; the sure sound of a gunshot.

Even knowing it wasn't close by, I jumped into action, pulling Jason away from the forest's edge and toward to car. When another shot sounded, I stuffed him into the passenger seat, ordered him to keep his head down and leaned over him to grab my own weapon from the compartment under the driver's seat.

"Stay here, keep your head down and call my dad and tell him what you just heard." I told him quickly and when he only stared at me; wide-eyed and terrified, I plucked the phone from the seat and stuffed it into his hands.

"His number's saved in the phone...call him." I ordered and just as I turned to go, he grabbed hold of my arm; his nails biting into my flesh.

"You can't...what if...what if something happens to you?"

I looked toward the trees then back at him. "I'll be right back. Keep your head down and call my dad." I said, before I pried his hand off me and locked the door.

Weapon in hand and my mind set, I made my way through the trees and toward the long dead sounds of the gunshots.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

GUYS IF I TAKE A WHILE TO POST A CHAPTER IT'S USUALLY FOR A GOOD REASON...THANKS TO THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE CONTINUED TO BE PATIENT WITH ME...I WILL DO BETTER IN THE FUTURE.

-KEEP SWEET AND THANKS FOR READING.

-ENJOY.

-DoUbLe.A

-unedited.