Bloom

I can’t say the building I work in is seeping with history, but there have been a lot of stories shared there.

I’m standing on the sidewalk in front of it waiting for Rhys.

It’s Saturday afternoon, and I’m not pulling a shift today, but he sent me a text message an hour ago saying he needed an ear to listen.

I was here going through some of my files, so I told him to meet me outside.

Winola is upstairs in a session with a senator who lost his son recently. Discretion is all he wants, so I slipped out of the office unnoticed. Meeting Rhys there won’t work today.

“Hey, Wolf!”

I turn to the left to see him approaching. His blond hair is gone. It’s been replaced with a dark shade of green.

He’s pulling it off.

“Rhys.” I point at finger at his head. “You’re a brave man. I like the new look.”

“Before my mom lost all of her hair, she dyed it a different color every week.” He scrubs a hand over the back of his neck. “She wanted me to join her, but I didn’t. I regret that now, you know?”

I know.

Regret can crowd the heart after death, leaving little room for anything else.

Rhys seems to have a handle on it though. He’s celebrating his mom by honoring her. He’s not wallowing in the what-might-have-been pit.

“She’d be proud of you for taking on the task now.”

I mean every word of it. Deidre was proud of her son. It shone through in every word she spoke about him. The kid was the light she needed to push through the pain of her treatments. She fought to the end for him.

“Do you want to get a hotdog or something?” He pats the back pocket of his jeans. “My treat.”

If he needs someone to hang out with for an hour or two, I’ve got the time. “I’m hungry. Let’s go.”

We start down the sidewalk, side-by-side. When we reach the corner, he turns to face me. “My dad’s warming up to the idea of coming to see you.”

That’s good news. Deidre worried about her husband Gareth. She hoped that one day he’d be ready to open up and talk about her death. That day may be closer than I anticipated.

“I told him about the idea of shooting hoops.” Rhys mimes tossing a basketball. “He liked that.”

I’ll do whatever it takes to get him to open up. I made a promise to his wife that I’d help him and their son. I fully intend to follow through.

“Does he know what I’m working with?” I flex my right bicep. “Is he sure he wants to take this on?”

“I told you that my dad has some moves on the court, Wolf.” He steps onto the street once the light changes. “He may surprise you.”

I fall in step beside him again. “We’ll see.”

“You could hold back and let him win.” He smiles. “My mom would do that when they played cards.”

I can see that. Deidre was the type of woman who would give you the shirt off her back and help you put it on.

“I can’t make any promises, Rhys.” I toss him a wink. “You get him to the court, and I’ll size him up.”

“Deal.” He jerks a thumb to the left. “That hot dog cart is the best in the city. My folks took me there for the first time when I was five.”

Memories like that are what will get him moving forward. It’s my job to make sure he keeps heading in that direction.

***