A Taste of Spring novel Chapter 24

Dez pulled out one of his dining chairs. He absently pulled the magazines off the bakery box as he thought of another word. He bought the steamy crossword puzzle book for his father as a gag gift. Never once did he consider his conservative father would actually like the thing.

"Coition," Dez replied, dryly. He didn't mean to sound so bored, because if his mother got wind of his mood of late, she would have a dozen of his family and friends camped out in his loft, in full out intervention mode. She just discovered the television show that had several seasons under its belt. To her credit, his mother was just as conservative as his father, and reality television was one of her least favorite things. Yet, the older they got the more Dez saw changes in them. Ones he actually approved of. But he totally regretted getting them the sex crosswords. This new uninhibited nonsense had to stop.

"Bingo!" his father yelled through the line. There was some scribbling then a giggle. "So, what's it like living in the Devil's Playground of late?"

They could stand a bit more change.

"You should come to visit and see for yourself, Pop. Granddad used to tell me how much you loved it here as a boy. Bring mom and I'll make it special."

"Not gonna happen. New York isn't your mother's cup of tea, so you can stop being a smartass and tell me how you're coming along."

"Everything's amazing, Pop."

His father grunted. "What have you been up to? Getting out of that cubbyhole? Seeing folk?"

Trying to sound more upbeat this time, Dez said, "Actually, Mrs. Marcum and I just had a nice chat in the hallway."

"Does she still think you and Fallon are a couple? Why would she think that anyway?"

"She can think what she wants. I see no reason to correct her." Dez shrugged, "Though...telling her the truth would stop her from giving me all of her fashion magazines that I just recycle." Dez pulled the magazine on top closer. He lifted the next off the pile then slapped it down on top of the other as he listened to his father. When he came to the next one in the pile, his hand hovered over it as he furrowed his brows at the image in front of him.

One of the models on the cover looked like...

"Pop," he said, cutting off whatever story his father was telling him, "I have to call you back."