The plan was to hand over the keys to Clusky in the next week. He drove over to the house then to pick up Helen and Larissa, and they spent the night at the Westbrook’s penthouse.The next morning saw them at the house early where they began to sort their stuff and move in. By noontime, the kitchen and Larissa’s room were ready, and they sat and had an improvised lunch. Over the afternoon they managed to stow away almost everything as best they could, and come six p.m. they were ready to spend the first night in their new house. Both were too beat to cook a dinner and instead had pizza delivered, but they ate at their new dining table, and with their new china and silverware.On the next day, they pretty much rested from their labors, except for a groceries run they performed to stock up refrigerator and pantry. Afterwards they took Larissa and strolled around the neighborhood. Wherever they saw people outside in their street, they stopped to introduce themselves, and most of their new. The older boy was a bit more of a home body. Make that exceptionally hard to get rid of. He had gone to the university up the hill from out Victorian row house home, and but for his first semester freshman year, he had resided on the uppermost floor of our four story house. He had gone through grad school never leaving home, and only six months ago did he move out to take a job in Chicago.Don’t get me wrong, I love my sons. When they were little, I enjoyed their company and loved them more than life itself. Now, though, the children I loved are two adult males with whom I have nothing in common. In each other’s company, we are bored, awkward, and in my opinion better off with our memories of each other. With my wife, it’s different. She has some inner need for more than I can give her. My oldest son moved to Chicago. For the first several months after his move, Karen seemed alright, but after that, it was as if one day I came home to find her in mourning. She was grieving, and there.
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