My oldest son called and wanted to be taken out for lunch. It’s odd, namely because he’s doesn’t usually call and also doesn’t make many requests. It was also telling because he likely assumed I would have TC in tow. So we set a date and time.
At the appointed hour, up to my house I drove, TC up at some ungodly hour (before noon), shades, slinking down in the seat as we pulled in the drive. I popped in to the house and my oldest was ‘just heading into the shower” (for what is usually an eternity). I’ve a couple of quick things to do around the house and tell my wife that TC is waiting in the car.
It’s hot n’ muggy already in DC and she tells me to bring him in. Back to the car I go, figuring TC won’t so much as have his feet touch my driveway. But NOOOO, the curious cat in him was dying to meet my wife and so he ambles out of the vehicle and up the walk he goes. A black slinky T-shirt, jean sorts and black tennis shoes. All I could think, how gay he looks. My brown tiger.
In to my house TC wanders where he’s warmly greeted by my wife who gives him a big hug and drags him into the kitchen. I wander off to do my chores. Circling back around, TC and her are planning some hair cutting appointment and talking about some “Coco Before Chanel” movie (whatever the F that’s about, probably girlie).
My son emerges and out the door we go, TC carrying baked goods, recipes and other ill-gotten gains, head held high, big smile. Off to lunch, my son, head buried in food, talking to TC, a normal outing.