Page 11 of Painting Together a Family
“Asked and answered,” Bryan told his boy, keeping his voice even. He was good. They were all good, and soon the boys would be distracted by a new place and new people. And while he was pretty sure that wouldn’t put an end to the eternal questions, at least he wouldn’t be the only one available to answer them.
“Daaaaady! I forgetted!”
“Forgot,” he corrected without even thinking about it. “We’re going to visit my new friend and his girls.”
“Do they really live here?” That was Dylan, eyes wide as he looked up at the building they now stood in front of.
“Yes, they really do.”
“In a skyscraper? Really?”
Bryan chuckled—he wasn’t sure eight or nine floors technically counted as a skyscraper but it was to his boys—and nodded. “Yes. Really.” He could understand Dylan’s awe—they didn’t know anyone who lived in an apartment of any size so this was a very unique situation.
“That’s so cool!”
“So cool!” Micah parroted.
They went in and he stopped at the security desk, keeping the boys’ hands firmly in his. “Hi. I’m here to visit Devlin Marx.”
“Name, sir?” the guy asked.
“Bryan St-Vincent.”
The guard consulted his computer for a moment, then nodded. “The elevator bank on the left. Sixth floor.”
“Thanks.” He assumed the guard was able to trigger whatever he needed to so that Bryan and the boys could actually go up without a key, so he headed in that direction.
The moment they stepped away from the security guard, the boys started up again, just amazed by the whole experience so far.
“Was that a police, Daddy?”
“Why did he want to know your name?”
“What are all the buttons for?” That question included him having to keep Micah away from the panel so no extra buttons were pushed.
When the elevator arrived at the sixth floor and the doors slid open, their questions stopped, both of them simply taking it all in as they walked along the hall to Dev’s place.
“Who wants to knock?”
“Me!”
“Me! Pick me!”
“How about you guys do it together,” he suggested.
Which they did, banging hard on the door. He grabbed their hands. “Okay, okay. I think they heard that.”
Marley answered the door with a grin. “Hey there! Come on in. Daddy was in the studio, so he’s washing up.
The apartment was homey enough that he didn’t worry too much about the boys making a mess.
“Hi, Marley. This is Dylan and Micah. Boys, this is Marley.”
Micah pressed against his leg, suddenly shy, but Dylan held out his hand and said, “pleased to meet you.”
“Hey guys. We have an art room—you want to come color?”
“Yes!” Micah grabbed hold of Dylan’s hand. “An art room, D. Come on!”
