Page 3 of Harvey

“I love you.”

He went still at that. It was something he had had to get used to over the years, the open affection and the fact that they were not afraid to say it to them. He never said it back, of course, because, for some reason, the words could not pass his throat. But they never seemed to mind, and they never stopped saying it.

“Yeah, well.” Clearing his throat, he dragged his fingers through his tangled hair and looked at the palm trees waving in the stiff breeze.

“You are not wearing a jacket,” he continued in a rough, tender voice. “And we both know what weak constitution you possess, and the parents will have my head if you get sick.”

Silas hid a smile at his discomfiture and decided to let it go. “I am as strong as an ox. I was not the one who had pneumonia at sixteen and had to miss his prom.”

“Who said I was that ill?” Harvey asked with a grin.

“I knew you were faking it!”

“I think our parents knew as well. Now get out of here; I will see you Sunday.”

Harvey watched him leave, a slight smile on his face. Silas was the kind of person one could never be upset with, at least not for a long stretch.

The boy had followed him around as soon as he could walk and had forced his way into this heart. Harvey had tried not to care, but he had been so insistent and innocently caring that he had been unable to help himself.

He would barge into Harvey’s room without knocking and want to find out what was happening. It was he who had taught Silas how to play touch football and how to score at basketball.

He had also taught him how to drive when he was only twelve, frightening their parents. Harvey had wrecked two vehicles by the time he was seventeen and had been banned from driving for six months.

But after seeing how greatly affected they had been, he had promised to be more cautious and kept his word. Feeling the chill biting through the thin sweater, he turned and returned home. It was going over the blueprint again for him and then off to bed. He had promised the contractor that he would be there early enough to start on the porch.

*****

“How is he?” His mother had silently materialized from the yellow salon and gave him a start.

“Mother.” Shaking his head, Silas strode forward to take her delicate hands in his. Julia was in her mid-sixties and had been forty-two when he was born. She had told Silas that the Lord had blessed her considerably; after spending years yearning for a child, he had graced her with two very handsome sons.

“Harvey is fine. He ate everything I brought over to him.” Squeezing her hands, he led her into the salon and waited until she was seated before taking a seat across from her. “And he will be here for supper on Sunday.”

“Thanks, darling.” She gave him a fond look out of bright green eyes. She longed to have grandchildren to cradle in her arms, but neither of her sons showed any signs of settling down. But she was a praying woman and had been doubling up on her prayer requests as of late.

“How is Dad?”

“Still coughing. I gave him some more of the medicine Jeff prescribed. How does he look?”

Back to Harvey again, he thought wryly, not in the least bit threatened. Harvey was difficult to love, and they knew he would walk through fire for them even though he had never said the words. “He looks as if he has been working hard.”

Julia shook her head with a sigh. “We hope to persuade him to come to the office for Monday's board meeting.” She glanced at her younger son. “That means you as well, darling.”

“I will be there.” Silas rose and came to kneel in front of her. “I hope the day won’t come when you are disappointed in me.”

Her eyes flared. Lifting her hand, she smoothed back his ash-blonde hair, her exact shade. “Never. You have chosen to go where the Lord has pointed, and I cannot have a say against that.” Sliding her hand down, she patted his cheek.

“Go on up and say goodnight to your Dad. He will be waiting to hear news about our Harvey. I have some things to take care of before I turn in. The fall charity ball is coming up, and I promised to give them my input.”

Rising, he leaned over and kissed her cheek before leaving the room. Her smile faded as she rose and went to the window. From her vantage point, she could barely see the light from where her son calls home. They had argued about him leaving the manor some three years ago, but he had told her bluntly that it was time to let him go.

“It’s not like I am moving out of state or even taking up residence at one of the apartments. I am staying within reach. I just need my own space.”

“You have an entire suite of your own.” She had protested.

“With servants underfoot all the time. When it’s not Silas barging in, you and Dad want to seek my opinion on some triviality. Enough is enough now, so don’t try to make me feel guilty. I am leaving.”

She had stopped trying to persuade him to stay, afraid she would drive him away. Absently, her fingers stroked the heavy maroon curtain as she recalled how many years he had taken to accept them as his parents.

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