The Truth

Chapter Seven

The back door lead directly into the kitchen, it wasn't the open floor plan of my own home. Walls lined each room with doorways between. The kitchen led to the dining room, with a living room just off of that. His television was a bit bigger than my own, but it was clear he didn't have a VCR. A small DVD player sat on the stand under the television that was mounted to the wall. A leather sofa was in the living room, what is it with men and leather sofas? I never liked them if it gets too hot the leather sticks to the backs of your legs. An air conditioner was in the window. Personally, I don't have one. I'd rather deal with the heat than spend the money buying one and then more money each month for electricity, but whatever; his house, his bills. There was a bathroom off the side of the living room, a small walk area towards the front of the house that leads to the front door.

A small bench sits there along with a pair of work boots. A set of stairs near the front door leads up to the second floor. I follow him up quietly. He walks into a room, it's not all that big. There's a bathroom between that room and the next one. The bathroom has a large clawfoot tub. There's adjoining doors between the rooms and the bathroom, so you don't have to walk out into the hall to go from one to the other. Well that's a nice idea, I wonder if he did that himself. The doors do look a bit newer than anything else.

He drops my duffle bag on the bed. I look around, everything smells like him. It's not a bad smell as far as smells go, but still. It hangs in the air, reminding me that everything I have right now is in this bag.

"You can use this room."

I nod, then realize he can't hear me nod. "Okay, thanks."

He sounds a bit annoyed. "Sure." He opens the closest drawer and pulls out some clothes

"This is your room?"

He nods and empties another drawer.

"It's the only one up here with it's own tv. I don't use it all that much so you might as well."

I make a small “Oh” sound.

He leaves the room carrying the clothes with him. I should have protested, insisted on sleeping in the guest bedroom. Right now though I'm too tired to fight with him. I can hear him in the next bedroom dropping the clothes on the bed before heading downstairs.

The hear the clicking of a gas stove as he turns a burner on. I put my things away and follow my nose back down the stairs. He's got the table set for two. Fried potatoes, steaks, and green beans. There's a bottle of wine sitting on the table.

"I don't know what you like to drink, there isn't any soda, but you can have water if you’d rather."

I nod my head. I've never actually had wine, I'm not old enough and the only bar that would serve me is filled to the brim with pack members.

"The wine is fine, thank you."

He's got a beer out, takes a swig, and sits down on one of the chairs. I sit opposite of him and I place my napkin in my lap. He's watching me now, I rest my arms on the table and wait. It's quiet, very quiet. I wait, he starts eating, so I pick up my knife and fork and try the potatoes. So good. Hot, but good. I cut my meat up and eat in the silence.

Finally, because I can't stand the silence any longer, I say, "I didn't know you could cook."

He nods, finishes chewing his food, and swallows "I've been cooking for my sister and brother sine I was 8."

"Oh.." my conversation skills are just awesome. Everyone knows he lost his mom at a young age. How stupid of me to forget. She lost a fight for her guy, they had three kids together. A male who can produce kids is just as likely to be fought for as a female.

I take a sip of the wine, it has a bit of an odd taste and makes my mouth dry as it hits my tounge. I stab at some green beans.

"So can you cook?"

I shake my head, "I can't cook to save my life, mostly I eat out."

He puts his fork down "we will have to change that." He takes a gulp of his beer.

Cooking lessons? Really? I'm lucky if I don't burn the house down. I take another sip of the wine.

"So, the house is nice."

He nodds "I like it."

I take another sip of the wine, the quiet is getting on my last nerve.

"The claw foot tub looks amazing. Do you have any good movies? Maybe we can watch one after dinner."

He shakes his head no.

Fine, I can keep quiet too. I finish my meal and say thank you before leaving the table I go into the kitchen and take a look around. Placing my dish in the sink I start to run the dishwater. I pull the pan from the stove and look around. He only used one pan? Really? I go back to the table and find he's left it. His plate still sitting in his spot his beer leaving a water mark on the table. I grab his plate and beer bottle. I put the plate in the sink and turn the water off. It takes me maybe 15 minutes to do up the dishes. I wipe down the counters and the stove. I go in and wipe off the table as well for good measure.

I can see him sitting in the living room. He isn't watching television, he's got a bunch of papers spread out in front of him. I drop the sponge into the sink and pull the plug. I rinse the sink out as well as the sponge before putting the sponge in the holder. Opening the refrigerator, I take out a beer and twist the top off. I walk through to the living room, set the beer on the table, and then head through to the stair case. He's still sitting on the sofa and doesn't say a word.

Fine, I can ignore him too. I go for the tub.