“KP,” he squealed, clearly thrilled to see his brother.
I grinned, in love with him immediately. This man was very special. Not just as one would define a person with special needs, but special as in glowing with happiness. He was all love. It radiated from every inch of his body.
“Here you are, here you are, here you are!” he announced with unwavering joy.
“I want you to meet my friend.” KP gestured to me. “This is Caitlyn. She’s going to paint your picture.”
“The pretty girl from the photo,” he shouted, “the prettiest one.” Then I was scooped into an embrace, and I hugged him back. Yes, it was love at first sight.
The cottage was quaint and small. The walls were natural wood and there was a great view from a picture window in the sitting area. On every inch of available space were artifacts and items a teenage boy would find fascinating: football jerseys, signed guitars, rock and roll posters, production stills from fantasy and sci-fi film movies signed by directors. There were also signed footballs and soccer balls encased in glass. The place was a playground for a hypothetically very rich, very spoiled teenage boy. To look at Wenton, though, who was clearly in his late twenties or early thirties, he was a sweet-spirited person who seemed to grab hold of the good things in life vivaciously.
“Yep, Wenton, this is her,” KP confirmed.
“See, see!” Wenton raced to get his cell phone. He scrolled through the pictures and mumbled to himself, noting each one as he swiped past them. “Here it is! The prettiest girl in the world.”
He was smiling from ear to ear when he showed me the selfie of KP and me at the diner.
“What is this?” I asked Wenton as nicely as I could, trying not to let on that it made me feel weird that he had my picture in his phone.
I was feeling a little off-center and slightly bamboozled by the two brothers. Wenton clearly had some cognitive delays, so I didn’t want to fault him for his overexaggeration. However, it felt very contrived.
“It’s a picture of the prettiest girl in the world,” Wenton answered.
I lifted a brow to KP, and he just motioned for us to sit at the small living space near the picture window.
“Wenton has been sending me on a wild goose chase of sorts since we were young,” he prefaced.
“Like a scavenger hunt?” I asked, still trying to see how our selfie fit in.
“Yeah, a hunt!” Wenton laughed. “I think of things for him to do, and he has to send me a picture on my phone of him doing them.”
“We’ve been playing this game since we were kids,” KP added.
“It’s fun,” Wenton said exuberantly, “wanna see some of them?”
Wenton scooted closer to me on the couch, ready to show me his phone.
“Sure.”
“These are the Catskill Mountains in upstate New York,” he started and proceeded to show me all the pictures on his phone After seeing the first few, I became rather impressed with the efforts KP had made to satisfy Wenton’s scavenging requests. There were pictures of specific kinds of birds and urban wildlife, such as raccoons, skunks, and rats. There was even one of a bear that was amazing.
There were also locations from around the globe — the Taj Mahal, the Great Wall of China, the Pyramids. I realized that KP had sent Wenton photographs from six of the seven wonders of the world. There were mundane shots as well, like an old woman eating an ice-cream cone, a banjo player playing for money in a subway, Ma’s diner.
All of the shots had a kind of simple and ironic beauty. Interspersed between the candid photos were pictures of movie stars in their costumes from science fiction films, actors sending notes with the texts wishing Wenton well, etc. In fact, Wenton’s iPhone would probably be worth millions of dollars. KP had a good eye, but what was most astounding about the pictures he took was the love for Wenton they revealed. He wasn’t just satisfying a request, he was giving Wenton a window into a world he would never get the opportunity to see.
Warmth flooded my heart, and I looked up, seeing KP differently than I had a minute before. For a man I considered selfish, self-absorbed, and rude, he had gone to great lengths to satisfy the requests of his brother.
“I have a bad heart,” Wenton said, tapping his chest. “I don’t get to go out much so KP sees the world for me.” He chuckled, his big grin lighting up the room. “I made him go to a greasy spoon diner late at night because I saw a movie that had an old diner in it.”
Ah… so that explained it.
“That’s why he came into Ma’s.” I glanced over at KP and something stirred deep inside me. “Of all the diners you could have chosen, you chose mine.”
Wenton laughed. “I knew he would hate it; he’s such a snob. But he met you there. He told me that he hated the food and it was yucky and I laughed at him. You should try the food here, I told him. But he said it wasn’t all bad because he met the most beautiful girl in the world there.”
I was stunned. “Well, I wouldn’t say I was that.”
Wenton blinked rapidly. “I would.”
KP jumped to his feet. “How about we all get some lunch?”
He was clearly nervous that his brother had revealed such an intimate detail. In my eyes, however, it made him look less lecherous and sex crazed and… more real. I could see them having that conversation just as normal brothers do. Not a billionaire setting his sights on his next conquest, but an older brother confiding in a younger one that he had met a hot girl. This made me laugh. It was so innocent and fun.
We had a lovely afternoon together. KP ordered us a lunch of roasted mushroom and pheasant empanadas with an arugula salad, crisp white wine, and a sugared pear tart. Apparently, Wenton had his own cook, and while he joked about eating the food at the facility, he rarely was subjected to it. The meal was quite decadent and wonderful, and despite the sophisticated palette one needed to enjoy the gamy tasting bird and rugged mushrooms, Wenton gobbled it up.
After our meal, Wenton wanted to show me his collection of memorabilia and artifacts. He went around the room and discussed each of the lovingly displayed items. His favorite was a signed light saber from the original “Star Wars” movie, a “Final Fantasy” original still and one of Elton John’s pianos.