A homeless thief breaks into a house that has nothing worth stealing - except for the heart of a lonely man who is obsessed with time.
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Blake has been living on the streets for...
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-Julia-
I had a big smile on my face for a long time after the nice young man, Blake, left. I couldn't stop staring at the tickets in my hands, and I definitely couldn't wait to tell my family about them. I strolled into my study on the second floor and sat down behind my desk. I still held the tickets in my hand when I pulled my intercom closer and called to the third floor.
"Jordan? Honey? I know you're painting, but Mr. Smith came to visit me today. The fine young man from yesterday."
"Yeah? What did he want?" my only son, Jordan, answered in a curious voice.
"He gave us tickets to the opera next Friday as a thank you for taking him to the hospital," I told him, looking at the tickets. "I hope your father has the time to come with me and your sisters."
"That's really nice of Mr. Smith," Jordan answered. "Was everything all right with him?"
"He said everything was fine, and he seemed fine," I said, putting the tickets down on my desk. "What are you painting?"
I turned to look around at my study. It was filled with my son's paintings. They were absolutely beautiful, and I loved each and every one of them, especially the portrait Jordan had painted of himself after I begged for it.
"I saw a woman on the news the other day, and I wanted to paint her," Jordan told me.
"Is she pretty?"
"Of course, but you'll have to wait until it's finished before you can see it," he said with a chuckle.
"I'm sure it's beautiful," I said tenderly. "Oh, before I forget, George is going to run errands later today. Do you need anything?"
"I'm running out of pepper and bread. I'll make a list and leave it at my door."
"Sure thing, sweetheart," I spoke, looking at the tickets again. I was silent for a moment, not sure if I should say what I wanted to say. Then I took a deep breath. "I wish you could come with us to the opera," I admitted in a quiet voice.
Jordan was silent for a moment as well. I knew I'd wounded him with my words, but I missed him, and I wanted him to know that.
"I wish so too," Jordan said eventually.
"Maybe someday?" I asked carefully.
"Maybe someday," he replied, but we both knew that day would never come.
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