Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
ARROW - 67. Chapter 67
All night I thought about what Colin said. Making a decision to visit the police, I fell into deep sleep.
In the morning a young man jumped on our bed. “Dad, Pop get up.” Colin looked at him, grabbed him and Thomas found himself in bed between Colin and I. Then the giggling, I didn’t know who was the child and who was the adult. They both were laughing, tickling each other and wrestling in bed. I got up, took my shower, put on my robe and went to the kitchen to make coffee.
Soon I was tackled by a pair of young arms. “Hungry?” He nodded his head and went to sit at the table. It has been years since I had cereal for breakfast, now it was on the table. Colin joined us, after his shower, I poured his coffee and Tommy’s hot chocolate. Today is cereal day, according to Tommy. we had to have a different breakfast each day. Evidently at the orphanage that was the rule. At first I thought that would be difficult but Tommy figured it out. I had Marcel make rolls, buns, and bread for our breakfasts. We had eggs, soft boiled, scrambled and fried along with bacon one day and sausage another day. We had grilled cheese and sometimes I would add bacon to them. Hot and cold cereal was always an option. Tommy’s job was to make a breakfast schedule for seven days. He thought that was fun and I noticed sometimes he would have the same breakfast twice.
Colin wanted pancakes one morning, I deviated from Tommy’s list and made pancakes instead of what was on his list. Tommy decided we didn’t need cereal any more and his new menu had pancakes several days.
Tommy also decided our chairs were too hard. He had to sit on our laps. I told Colin that he probably sat on his parents lap when he ate. I remember sitting on my mothers lap eating breakfast. That stopped when I started school.
“Colin, we need to think about school for Tommy.”
“Can I go to my old school?”
“I don’t know.”
“Armand, you’ll need to visit his school. Maybe he can continue if you take him and pick him up. You could check on the gallery as well.”
Tommy and I did go to his school after Colin left for work. His school was close to the orphanage. We went to the school’s office and changed Tommy’s address and updated his new name. They made a fuss over him and congratulated him on his new parents. Then we went to the gallery.
“Dad, can I have that picture in my bedroom?”
“Yes, we can take it with us when we go home. You can sit here while I talk to Grandmother.” I got a hug as he sat in his chair in front of the painting.
“Good morning, Mom. I came to see the model apartment.” She gave me the keys, passing Tommy, I rustled his hair.
“Where you going Dad?”
“Checking the model apartment. I’ll be right back.” Walking up the back stairs. I noticed the improved lighting. I also noted the mailboxes along the wall.
Walking into the apartment, Mary had done an excellent job. A coffee pot was on the counter next to the stove, the table was set for two, the living room had what appeared to be a corner sofa. They were two love seats with a small table in the corner. A small center table, end tables with lamps, and a tv completed the room. The bedroom had two single beds, separated by a three drawer stand, with a table lamp on top. On one wall were two small chests of drawers and two wardrobes.
The furniture looked like it was built for these rooms. The apartments weren’t large but there were slightly larger than a dorm. My first impressions that the furniture was specifically made for these apartments.
Walking down the fire escape, I entered the gallery. Ruffling someone’s hair as I walked past him, he took my hand as we walked to the office.
“Mom, you did a fantastic job on the model apartment. Did you have the furniture specifically designed for that apartment? Walking through everything seemed as if the furniture was made for the apartment.”
“We took a layout to an interior designer. That was his design. He said he could get the furniture if we want to decorate the other apartments in the same way.”
“Did he give you the cost of the furniture and the supplier?”
“No. He charged us a total fee which included the cost of the furniture and his fee.”
“Do you have those costs?”
“No, I gave them to Dad and he will give them to Colin today at work.”
“Ok, I’m going to the police. I’m hoping they will help me with a security system for the gallery. I’ll be back for lunch.”
“Are you taking Tommy?”
“I’ll ask him. If he doesn’t want to go, he can stay here.”
When I asked him, he decided he would stay with Grandmother.
Driving to the local police station didn’t take long. Entering the building, I told the woman at the desk why I was here. She said I should go to the office at City Hall.
I went back to the gallery. Going to City Hall would take more time and it would be best to do that in the morning. It was almost lunch time, and I wanted to remove Tommy’s painting to take home. It’ll need to be wrapped.
Walking into the gallery, “That didn’t take long.”
“They said I needed to go the office at City Hall. I’m going to take Tommy’s painting home for his room. Ready for lunch?”
“Give me a few minutes then we can stop at the post office, I need to mail this painting to a client in Canada.”
While I waited. I went and removed Tommy’s painting. “We taking it home, Dad?”
“Yes, but first we need to have lunch.”
“Are we going to Uncle Pete’s?”
“Is that where you want to go?” He nodded yes. “Go and see if Grandmother is ready.”
When he left, I took the painting to the car. I watched as he passed the wall where the painting was located, he stopped and looked. Then he saw me, running he yelled, “Do you have the painting?”
I held it up as I carefully put it in the trunk of the car. Tommy watched, he was sure it wasn’t going to get damaged.
Mom came out with her painting to be mailed. And we were off to Pete’s.
- 27
- 29
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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