Gia climbed the steps up to Jack’s workshop. She helped herself in as she knew he would not her her knock. Just at the right of the door, Jack’s bed was perfectly put, his clean clothes neatly folded on his faux Louis XV chair, his pictures frames aligned on his night stand.
She turned her head, pushing back her hair on her shoulders and put two fingers in her mouth. She did whistle loud and clear enough to make Jack turn off his soldering Iron. Sparkles dropped on the floor and he raised his mask on top of his head.
“What do you want ?”
“An envelope arrived for you.”
“Put it on my bed before leaving please.”
“It’s got an indian stamp.”
Jack breathed in loudly, slammed his mask down and resumed smoldering.
Sparkles flew again and Gia saw the magic in his work but she also saw the furtive monster of denial spreading his shadow on Jack’s energy. She walked a little farther into the workshop and knocked a pipe with a carbon tube she found on the floor.
“Do you have any idea how much that costs ?” Jack yelled in his mask.
“I know a spoiled brat when I see one. Pricy gadgets and a cool attitude don’t make up for snubbing the opportunity of meeting with your family. You’re lame Rutherford.”
Jack stopped had stopped his work. He slowly took off his helmet, turned of his gear and stood up. He walk slowly toward Gia, head down, brows united.
“ You killed your families, both genetic and adoptive. What do you know about family ties ?”
Gia swallowed her need to punch him in the face, tried to remember why she was trying to help this man despite his prejudices against her and kept looking straight in his eyes.
“If I had an uncle fond of Nehru Jackets who had disappeared when I was six, I’d do anything to find him and try to make the good times happen again.”
Gia took her breath and added “Especially if I received a letter from India.”
Jack walked toward his bed and took the framed picture of his uncle in his hands as Gia dropped the letter on his bed walked trough the door. Andrew did wear a green jacket with a mandarin collar and he did mention the lack of a proper indian tailor in the city.
“It was my parents.”
Gia paused on the top stair.
“They disappeared when I was six. Andy disappeared last year.”
“Then, what don’t you go and give the six years old boy the happy ending he deserves ?”
Gia rushed down the stairways only followed by the light noise of her steps.
“They don’t make mint stuffed chocolate toffee anymore” Jack answered.
This post is an answer to today’s prompt on the Daily Post : Life’s a candystore.