O n th e day she was to meet Elton for lunch, Branwyn brought Thomas to work with her. She made him wear his nice gray cotton pants and the maroon sweater that Eric, with the help of Ahn, had given him for his birthday.
Ethel Gorseman loved little Thomas because he never got into trouble when he was alone. If Eric came into the shop for any reason, the florist kept her eye on him every second.
She liked Eric too, but he was a “walking disaster” in her opinion. If Eric ever came in alone with Branwyn, Ethel would hire Jessop, who owned the small arcade across the street, to look after him. She’d give Eric five dollars so that he could eat hot dogs and play video games instead of breaking her vases and tipping over her shelves.
Tommy wished that she would give him five dollars and 3 2
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send him over to visit Jessop when he was there, but she never did. Instead she would tell him about how florists keep flowers alive and why it was such a good job.
That day Branwyn had kept Tommy out of school. The excuse she gave Minas was that he had a cold, but that wasn’t so remarkable. Thomas was used to runny noses and cough-ing. Most of his life he’d been sick with something.
When Elton came in at noon, wearing his mechanic’s overalls, Branwyn pushed Thomas forward and said, “Elton Trueblood, this is your son, Thomas.”
She said these words almost as a challenge. But when she saw the love and joy in Elton’s eyes, she bit her lower lip and tasted salty tears coming down into her mouth.
Looking at them together, anyone would have known them for father and son. Elton reached out his hand, and Thomas shook it like he had been taught to by Minas.
“I’m your father,” Elton said.
“Pleased to meet you, Daddy,” Thomas said.
For a long time he had been wanting to call someone daddy. Eric said that to Minas, but Branwyn had always told Thomas that Dr. Nolan wasn’t his father. Minas would say that he wished that Thomas was his son too, but that only meant that he wasn’t.
Eric called Branwyn “Mama Branwyn.” But Thomas knew that that was okay because Eric’s mother had died.
Looking up into Elton’s hard, dark face, Thomas was a little scared, but he knew that he had to be nice to Elton because his mother had made him wear nice clothes. And so he let the big man hold his hand as they walked down Pico to the hotel where his mother liked to eat.
Elton kept asking the boy questions.
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While they were sitting in the restaurant, Elton gave little Thomas a problem to solve.
“There’s a man,” he said, “with a fox, a big rooster, and a sack’a corn. He comes to a river where there’s a tiny li’l boat.
The boat is so small that the man can only carry one with him across the river at a time. But if he takes the corn, the fox will eat the rooster, and if he takes the fox, the rooster will eat the corn.”
“Then he should take the rooster ’cause the fox won’t eat corn,” Thomas said with a smile.
“Then what?” Elton asked.
“Then he could come back for the . . . the fox.”
“But if he leaves the fox on the other side when he goes back to get the corn, the fox will eat the rooster,” Elton said with a sly smile.
Watching his father’s smile, Thomas forgot the riddle. This was his father he was looking at. His father like Dr. Nolan was Eric’s father. He had the same black skin that Thomas had and the same kinky hair.
“Stop bothering him, Elton,” Branwyn said, feeling that Thomas was confused by being cross-examined like some criminal.
“I’m just doin’ what a father’s s’posed t’be doin’, Brawn,”
Elton said. “Helpin’ him to understand how hard the world is to see sometimes. Is he a li’l slow in school?”
“No.”
“I mean, it’s just a child’s riddle really,” Elton continued.
“Just a trick.”
He looked at Thomas hopefully, but the small boy only stared at him, the foxes and chickens and grain gone from his head. He was wondering if Elton would come live with them in Dr. Nolan’s big house.
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After lunch Branwyn went back to the flower shop and cried. She sat on a stool at the back of the big orchid refrigerator. Thomas stood next to her and held her hand.
“What’s wrong, Mommy?”
“I’m just happy, baby,” she said, choking on every other word.
“You don’t sound happy.”
“Sometimes people cry when they’re happy.”
