Evolution Read Free Page B

boots. A door to the left led to a brightly lit kitchen. At a table in front of the window overlooking the driveway sat a gray-haired black guy, while a white woman stood at the stove. The black guy stood as we entered.
    “Jeff, I’d like you to meet Curtis,”
    “Master Jeffrey. I’m very happy to meet you,” the old guy said and offered his hand. I shook it. The old guy smiled and for the first time since I’d learned my mother had died I felt a smidgeon of hope.
    “Hi.”
    “And this is Helen,” Richard said, indicating the middle-aged cook at the stove.
    The woman swiveled her head to take me in and I knew in an instant that she and I would never be friends.
    “How do you do?” she said.
    I nodded, unsure how to answer.
    “Mr. and Mrs. Alpert are in the living room,” Helen said.
    “Thank you. Curtis, there are some bags in my car. Would you please bring them up to Jeff’s room?”
    “I’d be glad to, sir.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Jeff, this way,’ Richard said, and strode toward a darkened hallway. I followed, wondering why he’d warned me about his grandmother.
    I found out when we entered the large living room. An old man and lady sat reading in chairs that faced one another. The old guy looked okay, but the old lady seemed to radiate something awful. Was it her expression, or the way she sat huddled in her chair. She reminded me of a slug—something I’d only seen pictures of. Slimy and nasty. Why had Richard brought me to live with such an awful person? I looked to him for an explanation, but he strode into the room, leaving me to catch up.
    “Grandfather—Grandmother, I’d like you to meet Jeff.”
    The old people swung their heads to look at me. Then the old man stood and offered his hand. “Glad to meet you, Jeffrey.”
    I shook his bony hand. “Thank you.” I thought better and added, “Sir.”
    The old man took a step back and nodded toward his wife.
    “Hello, Mrs. Alpert,” I said.
    The old woman glared a t me and said nothing.
    “We’re very sorry to hear of your mother’s death,” the old man said.
    Was I supposed to say thank you? I wasn’t sure, so I said nothing.
    “I hope you’ll find yo ur room acceptable,” he added.
    “I was about to take Jeff up to see it,” Richard said.
    “Dinner is at seven tonight,” the old lady said, and then turned back to her book.
    Richard nodded toward the hall, and I followed him to a huge staircase that opened up into a cathedral ceiling. The floors around it were marble—like in a museum or a fancy hotel, not that I’d ever been to either.
    I followed Richard up the stairs. He paused at the landing. All the doors but one were closed.
    “This room on the right is my grandfather’s bedroom. Next to it is my grandmother’s room.”
    “They don’t sleep together?”
    “No. Here’s my room.”
    We walked on.
    “And this will be your room.” The door was open. Richard stood back and let me enter.
    Compared to all the other rooms I’d seen, it was small, with just a bed, a dresser, a small desk, and a straight-backed chair. I opened one door and found the closet. The other door had hidden a bathroom that seemed almost as big as my new bedroom.
    “Sorry, but we have to share a bathroom,” Richard apologized.
    So? I’d shared a bathroom with my mother. What did it matter?
    “I’ll move some of my things around so you can have your own space.”
    Space for what? All I had was a worn toothbrush.
    Curtis arrived with all the bags from the car and set them on the bed. “Would you like help putting your things away?” he asked.
    “No, thank you.” I didn’t want him to see my crappy stuff or how little there was of it.
    Curtis gave me a nod and a smile and retreated.
    Richard backed into the bathroom. “I’ll give you some privacy,” he said.
    “Wait! You’re not going to take off and leave me here, are you?”
    His answering smile was weak. “No. I don’t have to go back to work until Monday afternoon. We’ll have