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Season of Change(101)

By:Melinda Curtis


                WHEN DINNER WAS ready that night, Slade couldn’t find the girls. They weren’t downstairs. They weren’t upstairs. They weren’t in the front or back yards. The house was empty, as it would be empty when they returned to New York. As the winery would be empty when Christine went on that interview and got the job.

                He used to embrace the emptiness. He and the house had an understanding. But not anymore. He dreaded the forthcoming emptiness.

                He stepped out the front door. “Faith! Grace!”

                “Dad!” Grace was on Takata’s front porch with Faith and the old man himself. She ran across the grass to their driveway.

                Predictably, Takata yelled at her, “Keep off the grass!”

                Instead of being cowed, Grace’s grin widened. “Can Old Man Takata come over for dinner?”

                It didn’t escape Slade how the girls used the nickname every kid in Harmony Valley had grown up using.

                “Please,” Faith seconded, jumping up and down next to Takata.

                The last thing Slade wanted in his house was the man who wanted him to open up his dad’s bedroom door. Slade was about to make some excuse, when Grace gave a pretty little pout and said, “Please.”

                “Sure, bring him over.” Slade went back inside to set another place at the table.

                The twins brought the old man through the front door, even though it was a shorter distance from his porch to the back door and the kitchen. But that would have required they walk across his lawn.

                “Spaghetti. How nice.” Takata hooked his cane on Slade’s chair and sat in it. He put an empty plastic container next to his plate. “In case there’s leftovers.”

                “You’re welcome to them.” The twins didn’t care for leftovers. Slade set the bread bowl on the table. “I hope the girls weren’t bothering you.”

                “Youth isn’t a bother, unless they stray off the path. Sidewalks are there for a reason.” Takata heaped food on his plate as if he hadn’t eaten for days. As skinny as he was, that could very well be.

                “You never had kids of your own, did you?” If Takata did, he’d have known kids don’t like to stay on the beaten path.

                “I married my Nancy too late in life.” He leaned toward the girls. “It’s hard to believe, but when I was younger, being a mortician wasn’t seen as cutting-edge as it is today. It was very hard to get a date. Although, girls, you should know that the only thing guaranteed in life is death. That’s why staking your career on death is so lucrative.”

                Slade choked on his water.

                “When you consider a husband, you should consider his earning potential, too.”

                The twins giggled.

                Slade twirled his fork in his spaghetti.

                “Your father would be quite the catch, if it wasn’t for this house.” Takata glanced around the room. “I haven’t been here in years. Same shabby cabinets. Outdated linoleum. What woman wants that? Is it still the same upstairs?”

                Slade’s spaghetti slipped off his fork. He didn’t often think about the sky-blue apples and pears imprinted on the white Formica tabletop. He tried not to think about anything in the house. If...when...he left this place, he’d be leaving behind the things his mother loved.