“I just feel lucky to have my own shop,” he says. “My parents lent me some money to supplement the business loan I took out with the bank, and Randy always gave me a fantastic deal on rent.” He coughs lightly. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed that yet.”
I had, but it’s not like I’m going to raise his rent when I’m about to sell the building anyway. I touched his asshole, for fuck’s sake.
“It’s fine,” I say. “I’ll respect his arrangement. And you’re the one that made the business work. Give yourself that credit.”
Nicholas nods. “It has taken a lot of sweat. And tight purse strings to pay the loans off. But I find you can come up with countless outfit combinations with only a small number of interchangeable blazers and T-shirts from the thrift store. And I happen to love noodles for dinner.”
“Good that your folks could help you out, too.”
“We’ve always been close. I go over for dinner once a week, and they stop by the shop sometimes. You’ll meet them eventually, I’m sure. My mom, Luana, was a dental assistant. She just retired. Reymond, my dad, is a librarian here in Allentown. They’re both active around the neighborhood, very civically minded, so most everyone knows them. It’s nice.”
Something twinges in me, glimpsing Nicholas’s life beyond what I’ll ever know of him. A kind of life I don’t have myself. Not sure what to do with the feeling, I bury it down.
“Luana is a pretty name,” I tell him.
“Isn’t it? My grandma on that side is from Portugal,” he says. “A lot of my dad’s family is, too, although I sadly know only a little Portuguese.”
“Yeah, I only speak English. I’ve picked up some Spanish, though, in high school.”
“What about your family?” he asks gently. “You said you aren’t close?”
I shake my head. “My mom’s passed. Never knew my dad, Randy’s son. And I’ve got no extended family to speak of. But when I was growing up, my mom and I got along fine enough. It was just the two of us, and we butted heads, but we made it work.”
Nicholas touches my elbow lightly. “Being on your own is tough.”
He says it with some sympathy in his voice, but without making me feel pitied. More like it’s a hard fact worth acknowledging.
“I like to depend on myself,” I tell him. “Make my own way without needing other people. But yeah. It would have been nice to have someone backing me up a few times.”
Wind rustles through the trees, and when Nicholas turns, he clicks his tongue. “I spot Aurora.”
I turn, too. “Where?”
He points. “The entire opposite end of the farm.”
I snort. “Alright. Lead the way.”
We take off down another path.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you really are Randy’s grandson. He was a committed bachelor, too. And he hated depending on other people, although unlike you, he loved company.”
“I guess I figured some of that out. Considering he had a carpenter like Sue as his friend and neighbor, but he still let his building fall into disrepair.” I shove my hands in my pockets. “And I don’t have a problem with other people. Just so long as they leave me alone.”
Nicholas laughs. “You’re an introvert, I get it. But you and Randy still would have liked each other,” Nicholas says. “Do you enjoy hearing about him?”
I consider it, my mind wandering to the journal and picture. I’ve only flipped through, still hesitating to dive deep. And I’m not sure if Nicholas will think it’s weird that I’m reading it, violating Randy’s privacy or something, like maybe I don’t have the right. I decide not to mention it now.
“Yeah, I think I do like learning about him. The more time I spend here, the more I feel like I should know the guy.”
We walk by some sprinklers, spraying water in a circle. Now is the time to ask more, if I’m ever going to.
“Randy never said anything about my father? Or any family?”
“There were a few things Randy refused to talk about. Those included his family, any serious ex-boyfriends, the condition ofhis health, and Cher after one horrible concert experience during her first farewell tour.”
I chuckle and consider how reluctant I am to talk about serious shit like that, too. Although I do talk a little bit with Nicholas. Makes me uncomfortable, but I guess he already knows some of my secrets.
“Sometimes, when there’s nothing you can do about your problems, it’s easier to just not talk about it,” I say.
