The New Home

Leaning forward in his seat a bit, Nick paused a moment to look up at the house, surprised to find it a lot bigger and fancier than he expected. He frowned, wondering how his dad could possibly afford such a swank place. Climbing out of the Escalade, he circled around back of the vehicle to collect his duffle bag, again throwing the old hockey equipment tote full of his belongings up over his shoulder.

“Come one, I’ll show you to the room Calista picked out for you,” Marty offered, standing atop a flight of cement stairs leading up to the front door of the house.

Nodding, Nick walked over, stepping through the threshold of the doorway and onto a broad landing, stairs on the left leading up, stairs on the right leading down.

“Shoes,” Marty said, pointing at Nick’s broken in white Starter running shoes, “we don’t wear shoes in the house.”

Using his feet, Nick slipped off the shoes and looked at Marty, “Up or down?” he asked, eyes toward the stairs.

“Down,” replied his father, stretching out a hand in that direction.

Nodding, Nick descended the half flight of stairs with Marty following. When they reached the bottom, Marty moved out ahead, leading the boy a short distance down the hall to the first room on the right.

“Here you go,” Marty said, opening the door and reaching a hand in to turn on the light before stepping back out of the way.

Moving passed his father, Nick stepped in. The room was a spacious 20’X24’ feet, practically quadruple the square footage of his room at his mother’s place. There were two large windows set into the wall to his right, curtains deep burgundy in color standing open, facing out the front of the house. The furnishings were pretty Spartan consisting of a queen sized bed along the wall directly across from the door, the blanket on top the same color as the draperies, one stand up four drawer dresser between the windows, and a glass computer table with pull out keyboard tray and chair in the corner to his left. There was also a wooden night stand beside the bed with a shaded lamp and a digital alarm clock. Along the wall to his left were two floating paneled sliding doors opening into a closet.

Dropping the bag on top of the bed, Nick did a turn, nodding his head slightly as he examined the space.

“I know this is a big change for you, but I want you to know you have a home here sport,” Marty said.

Lopsided smile on the side of his face, “I have a home in Minnesota, this is just a place the court said I have to flop until I’m old enough to leave,” he replied dryly.

Shaking his head, Marty frowned, “It doesn’t have to be son. Like I said, we’ll hit the mall and get you some things to help put your own personal stamp on the place,” he reminded.

A quizzical expression crossed the boy’s face. “You know there’s something I’m curious about, when you abandoned us, you didn’t barely had two nickels to rub together. How is it you can afford a place like this?” he asked.

Marty expected this, knowing there was going to be an extensive litany of questions cropping up in the days to come, so he smiled, “Fair question,” he acknowledged, nodding. “The answer is Calista is in a financially stable situation,” he answered.

“So this is her house?” Nick asked, arching an eyebrow.

“No, this is our house,” he replied.

Nick laughed out loud, “But she’s fronting the bills. So what you got is like your very own sugar momma,” he mocked.

“It is a team effort, we each contribute what we can in our own way,” Marty defended.

Expression going serious, the boy stepped closer to his father, “You each contribute what you can? Is that what you said? Well, that’s nice. That explains why there were intermittent child support checks. Living on Kraft Dinner and getting clothes from the Thrifty Mart,” he stated acerbically. “I’m glad you were able to contribute what you could.”

Turning his head, Marty looked away, “You deserved more and now I’m in a position to do more,” he answered softly, fingers of guilt clawing at his belly.

Calista popped her head in, smile vanishing from her face as she felt the palpable tension hovering in the air, “Sorry. Am I interrupting?” she asked, taking a step into the room.

Nick looked at her and smiled, “Nah, it’s all good. Dad was just sharing some background on this sweet little set up here,” he replied.

“That’s good,” she answered, the smile returning to her pretty face. “So what do you think?” she asked, spreading her arm wide.

Eyes now on his father, “It’s a whole lot more spacious than I’m used to,” he said, lingering a moment before looking at her and smiling.

“It’s your room, you can do what you want with it, paint it, whatever,” she offered.

Nick nodded, “Thanks,” he said. “I think for now I would just like to put some stuff away and grab a shower, you know, feeling a little ripe from the trip,” he said.

“Oh sure,” Calista said, “There’s a fully stocked bathroom down the hall on your left, towels and whatever else you might need in there, beyond that is a laundry room if you’ve got dirty clothes.”

“Okay,” he replied, nodding.

An awkward silence ensued.

Clearing his throat, Marty walked over to Calista and put his arm around her shoulders. “Well I guess we’ll leave you to it,” he said. “Remember if there’s anything you need, don’t be afraid to give us a shout.”

Calista smiled and nodded, “We just want you to feel welcome here,” she said warmly.

Nick smiled wanly, giving her a thumbs up and nodding.

“Now,” she started, pausing to look at Marty then back at Nick, “I don’t want to sound like a bitch, but you don’t smoke do you?” she asked, hoping he didn’t.

He shook his head.

“Whew, okay, that’s good, but I had to check,” she answered with a sigh of relief.

“Come on dear, let’s give Nick some space,” Marty urged, smiling at his fiancée and aiming her toward the door.

“Okay,” she replied, “Pizza in say an hour?” she asked, pausing near the door.

“Sure,” Nick said.

“Any specific kind?” she inquired.

“No fish,” he asserted, “or some other weird California avocado combo, maybe just pepperoni or something.”

“Got it,” she said, nodding before leaving the room with Marty.