Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 97951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Lennox’s ears peaked as he heard what sounded like classical music playing on low volume. He’d never heard his father play classical music before. How strange. It was there, but barely detectable.
“Ya hungry?” Dad asked, his brows slightly furrowed as if he were annoyed about something, but decided to focus on food instead.
Lennox turned to him, his hands on his hips. Their gazes hooked and his stomach clenched, but not from just hunger.
“Yeah. I could eat.”
“You’re always hungry.” Dad chuckled as he made his way past him. “I just had a food delivery. Way too much food for just me anyway. You’re right on time.”
Lennox followed him into the kitchen. Stainless steel double ovens. Two microwaves. A LED illuminated built-in curio cabinet. State of the art smart appliances. Both sides of the white and black kitchen had large white cabinets filled with some of the most expensive plates and glassware one could buy. He sat down at the hefty irregularly shaped white marble kitchen table with enormous matching scoop chairs. They swiveled back and forth, allowing him to let off a little excess steam.
Dad reached into a brown paper bag soiled with grease stains, and pulled out a hoagie sandwich wrapped in oily parchment paper. It sure smells good, whatever it was. He took out another one and set each on a white plate, along with potato chips and a pickle spear. Without a word, he slid one of the plates toward Lennox, then went to the fridge. Lennox carefully peeled the paper off the sandwich. It was a meatball sub with loads of marinara sauce, jalapeño peppers, thinly sliced onions, and heaps of mozzarella cheese.
“Why’d you order two sandwiches if you weren’t expecting anyone?”
“One for lunch. One for supper.”
His father poured a tall glass of milk, then shuffled back over to him and set it beside his plate.
“Thank you.”
“Welcome.” A sad smile creased Dad’s face as he reached into his robe pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. Then, he just stood there, staring at him, sorrow in his soupy eyes.
“What?” Lennox asked between chomps of the hoagie. He dabbed the side of his mouth with a napkin. The violins in the song seemed to get louder.
“When you were a lil’ boy, you loved meatball hoagies. You remember that?”
Lennox thought about it for a moment. “Nah, not really,” he said around a mouthful of food.
“There was a greasy spoon down in Benton. It was called Harold’s Diner. Long time ago.” Dad waved his hand as if it were a simple, fleeting thought. “I’d take you ’nd Silva ’round there and you’d always get that meatball hoagie. Extra sauce and cheese. These aren’t as good, but they’re a close second.” He looked down at his own untouched plate. “I rarely buy ’em now. Then today, I used Uber Eats and purchased two—and here you come. Like it was meant to be. Just a bit ironic is all.” Dad shrugged, picked up his beer and chugged it hard. The older man’s long throat constricted and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the piss-colored brew—his medicine for his mental issues and emotional damage. Am I collateral damage?
“Yeah… like I said. I don’t remember that.” Lennox picked up his glass of milk, then took a small sip.
“You were young. ’Bout six or seven or so. I imagine that’s not somethin’ you’d store in your memory bank. Anyway, your mama wanted y’all to eat healthy, so I’d do it on the sly. I’d whisper to you to tell your mama that we were just going out to get some milk or somethin’ like that. We went to that place many times together before they closed. Great food.” That sad smile returned to his face again. This time, his eyes watered. “Not a lotta candies, cakes or cookies were in the house. Definitely not greasy, tasty submarines, bubbly Coke, and thick cut steak fries. But you ’nd Silva didn’t ever get a cavity, either. So, I guess it paid off.”
He looked dreamily towards a large bay window and sucked on the cigarette. Nothing outside but absolute magnificence.
“I remember when Silva and I were younger, we saw you as the fun parent and Mama as the meanie.” Lennox mustered a smile as the memories flooded his mind.
“Yeah. A little fun never hurt nobody. Your mama was a pretty serious woman, but she’d laugh with me and at me. She had a beautiful smile, Lenny, I’m sure you remember it… and her giggle was hilarious. She had the funniest laugh… said I was the most amusing man she’d ever met. She loved my way with numbers. Found it sexy.” He brought his hand to his face, rested his nose against his curved knuckle and shook his head, then tapped his ashes into a nearby ashtray.
“I wish you woulda gotten remarried. You needed someone.” Someone to hold you accountable and stand between you and Grandpa. Be your peace.