“Really? Has it been that long since I was there?”
“Last couple times you came to Philly, we stayed in the city. I came out on the train, remember?”
He nodded. “Right, right. Anyway, Brady can show you the password for the computer. He has his own laptop.”
We headed back to the entryway, where I grabbed my duffel and backpack, and then we ascended the staircase.
Three bedrooms were located on the second floor: a master bedroom, Brady’s room, and a guest room where I would sleep, each with its own bathroom. My room was decorated in an African theme. Oversized photos-on-canvas of giraffes, elephants, and zebras hung on the toasty brown walls. The photos of the animals intrigued me.
“Liz went on a medical mission trip to Kenya last year,” Dad said, noticing my interest. “She took these pictures on one of her days off there.”
“They’re very…compelling.”
My dad was quiet for a moment, and I could sense him studying me. “Are you into photography?” he finally asked. “Because your mother was, you know.”
She was? I blinked, some memory stirring, an image of her with a camera in her hand. I could see her quite clearly, standing on the shoulder of the road, feet planted on each side of her bike, her camera aimed toward the beautiful countryside ahead of us. She and I frequently went bike riding when I was little, and now that I thought about it, I remembered her bringing that camera along many times. Funny that it hadn’t occurred to me for years.
“I was away a lot, so it gave her something to do,” he continued. “She was good too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I found a box of her old photos during this last move. I think they’re in our storage unit. When I get back from the Middle East, I’ll see if I can find them for you.”
“I’d really like that.” I sensed a stirring inside me, the first since I left Lancaster County hours before. The pace of life in Orange County hadn’t drawn me, nor had my father’s muscle cars, but as I stood there looking at these beautiful photos of Africa and thought about my mother and her camera and her picture-taking, I knew here was something that evoked a hunger in me similar to what I had been feeling in recent days at the pond. I didn’t own a camera, of course, but at that moment I suddenly and surprisingly wished I did. Even more strongly, I wanted to see the photos that my mother had saved.
Dad stepped past me and opened one of the double closet doors. “There’s plenty of room to hang up your clothes. And here are the things Liz got for you. If they’re too small, just leave the tags on. The next time she and I talk, I’ll find out where she put the receipts, and you can exchange these things for ones that fit.”
I peered inside. Tags still hung from the shirts, which included collared, colorful plaid shirts with buttons and beach-themed T-shirts.
“They’re great. Thanks.”
We went back downstairs and headed out back so that Frisco could relieve himself. Like the house, the yard was clean, free of clutter and expertly landscaped. The filter on the pool hummed, and the sapphire-blue water sparkled in the sun.
“The pool guy comes on Thursdays and the gardener on Mondays. They don’t need keys or anything; they’ll just show up. And the sprinklers are on a timer, so unless we have a heat wave, you won’t have to water anything.”
Maids. Pool guy. Gardener. Automatic sprinklers. I had never noticed before how little my dad did to make his house a home.
“You don’t have to have all those people coming to take care of the house,” I said. “I’m happy to do it.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble. I’ve already paid for the month,” he said, as if I merely wanted to relieve him of the expense. “In fact, it would be more bother to cancel everything now and reinstate it later than it would just to leave it alone.”
I nodded, suddenly seeing the hours of my days here stretch out endlessly, with nothing useful to do other than keep an eye on Brady. I would definitely need to find something constructive to occupy my free time.
“The gas grill is right over there by the hot tub,” my father continued. “You can grill just about anything on it. Other than that, Liz has a bunch of casseroles in the freezer for you and other stuff she bought at Costco, and you can always eat out a couple nights a week.”
“I’m sure we’ll manage just fine.” I knew it would be easy enough to throw some food together for dinner every night.
I was going to have a lot of empty time if the only thing I needed to do when Brady was at school was walk a ten-pound dog. At the same moment I realized this, something else occurred to me. God already knew how my days here were going to unfold. Was this His intention, for me to have the time I would need to explore my interests so that I could find out in which world I belonged? Somehow it felt like it, and I silently thanked Him.