Inheritance of Truth
LUCAS’S POV:
Dorothy caught my eye over his head and I saw the corner of her mouth move.
Martin sat down next to Sam at the table and Sam, without looking up from the colouring book, shifted his chair approximately two centimetres closer to Martin. Such a small movement.
I sat down across from them.
“What are you colouring?” I asked.
Sam looked up. “A lion,” he said. “I am making it orange because real lions are not orange enough.”
I thought about Kate at the warehouse giving Sam an orange fabric offcut. I thought about how this boy had opinions about the right amount of orange and communicated them without apology.
“I think that is an excellent decision,” I said.
He looked at me carefully. Then he pushed the box of crayons across the table toward me. “You can help,” he said. “But not with the lion. I am doing the lion. You can do the background.”
“What colour should the background be?” I asked.
He thought about it very seriously. “Your choice,” he said. “But choose well.”
Martin was looking at the table and trying extremely hard not to smile and failing at it.
I picked up a crayon.
“Okay,” I said. “I will do my best.”
“Good,” Sam said, and went back to the lion.
Lunch was long and easy and full of the good warmth that comes from a table where people are genuinely glad to be together. Dorothy fed us well and asked me all questions and listened to the answers with the focused attention of someone who was assessing without making you feel assessed. By the time we were done eating I understood completely why Martin had been coming here over the years. Dorothy Osei was the type of person who made you feel like whatever you brought into her house was welcome and whatever you needed to say could be said.
Sam fell asleep on the sofa after lunch in the way of small children who go from full energy to completely unconscious in about four minutes.
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