Chapter 58: Roommates
Mel, Markus, and Lucas are strolling along the beach, Lucas on Markus’s shoulders. Every ten minutes, Lucas wiggles to get down and Markus will take him off and let him look at something in the sand then put him back up, not seeming to care that he now has sand in his hair and on his shirt. Mel is pleasantly surprised at how easily they seem to have slipped into the father-son mode.
“You’re great at this,” Melissa says without thinking.
“What?” Markus asks as he looks up at her from where he and Lucas are digging at something in the wet sand.
Feeling silly for saying anything but feels like she should let him know, “the Dad thing. You’re a natural.” Mel blushes as she compliments him.
Markus blushes as well as he takes her compliment, “thank you. It’s easy when the kid is this great,” he replies as he throws Lucas up in the air and catches him. Lucas laughs and Mel’s heart swells.
“Again,” Lucas says. Markus does it again, then plunks him back on his shoulders.
“I think it’s time to get this little guy out of the sun. Are you ready for some lunch?” Markus asks. Mel nods and they turn around and head back toward the parking lot where the restaurants are located.
They are driving back toward the city, Lucas sleeping in this car seat in the back of Markus’s car. She didn’t ask him why he had one or where it came from. Did he have another child? She didn’t think he had any brothers or sisters, so why the car seat? Markus breaks through her thoughts.
“Tell me more about Lucas. What’s his full name?” Markus asks.
Mel clears her throat, not sure why she is a little nervous, “Lucas Andrew,” she answers.
Markus looks her way, “Andrew, that’s my middle name.”
“Yes, I know,” Mel replies, “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Why would I?” Markus asks. “I guess Lucas was Lou’s actual name?”
Mel shakes her head. “No it was Luise, he hated it,” she chuckles. “Lucas is what I got when I combined Lou and Markus,” she blurts out.
Markus’s eyes fly to her again, and this time he reaches over and squeezes her hand. Mel notices they are entering a residential area, with older homes on big lots, surrounded by trees. She is thinking about how nice it would be to bring a family up here when Markus pulls up a driveway to a beautiful old English style home with a wrap around veranda and gables along the front. Oh My God, Mel thinks, is that a widow's walk? She always wanted a house with one. Suddenly she realizes Markus has turned off the car and is looking at her strangely. Nervous?
“Why are we here? Who lives here?” Mel asks, getting nervous herself.
Markus clears his throat. “I do. This is my home.”
Mel Looks at him with confusion and shock. His home? This must be a five-bedroom house. Does he still live with his parents? Is he introducing her to his parents! She is not ready for that yet. She is about to protest when he laughs.
As if he can read her mind he tells her, “No, not my parent's mine. I know it is not what you would expect for a bachelor, but my aunt left it to me. Come on in, I’ll show you around.” He waits for her nod before he gets out and helps her with a sleepy headed Lucas.
As they enter the front door, Mel hears nails hitting the hardwood floor, then a flash of black comes barrelling towards them. Markus laughs as he commands the Labrador Retriever, “sit Buddy. Good Boy.” He gives the dog a scratch under the chin as Lucas comes fully awake.
“Doggie, ruff, ruff,” he says as he struggles to get out of Mel’s arms. She is reluctant to let him go, not knowing how the dog will react.
“He loves children. He spends more time with the neighbor’s grandchildren than he does me,” He tells Mel. Then to the dog, “don’t you Buddy? Lie down for Lucas.” The dog goes down to his belly as Markus introduces both her and Lucas to them. Lucas laughs when the dog puts his paw in his hand.
Markus gives her the tour, with Lucas and Buddy trodding along behind them. He refuses to be carried now, his attention no longer focused on Markus but his dog instead. Mel finds out that not only does his house have five bedrooms, there is a study, playroom, three bathrooms, and a huge fenced-in backyard.
Markus explains that his aunt and uncle always wanted an enormous family but unfortunately could never have children. His uncle was in real estate and his aunt, who was a teacher, would often take in her students who needed an escape from unhealthy home lives. Markus spent a lot of time here as a child and a teenager. Having no brothers or sisters, he often became friends with the teens his aunt and uncle took in. When his aunt passed away, just two years after her husband Markus was shocked to find out they had left the house to him.
“Wow,” is all Mel can manage. “She must have been a wonderful lady.”
“She was the best. If every child could have parents like them...it seems so unfair that they couldn’t have children of their own. But I guess in the grand scheme of things, they did more good this way. Doris taught 17- and 18-year-olds, but there were times she would come home with an entire family. Anyone she felt needed love and guidance.” Mel can see the love and admiration he had for his aunt and a little of sadness in his eyes that she was no longer here.
“So...I was wondering,” Markus hesitates as he rubs the back of his neck, which he always does when nervous or upset. He looks down at Lucas, who is on the floor, half on top of Buddy, who is on his back loving the intention.
“Yes?” Mel prompts him.
“Well, I got all these rooms and there is just me. You and Lucas could both have your own rooms. I’m not asking you to move in with me. Well, I guess I am but. God, I’m making a mess of this.”
Mel cuts in and touches him on his forearm. “It’s okay, Markus. I know what you mean. You want us to move in, but more as roommates and to be a family. Like your aunt would.” She looks down at Lucas herself and the beautiful old home, so empty and lonely with just one person living in it. It is like the house is calling to her. Telling her it needs a family. “Yes, Markus. We will be your roommates.”
Well Damn Markus thinks. Wasn’t quite what I had in mind, but it's a start.