Chasing Empty Spaces

Chapter 3

“You’re up awfully early this mornin’, young man.”

Harry sat down across from his mother and his eyes flickered toward the window pane behind her. The drive was still empty, his truck missing from its usual place. Harry tugged on the cuff of his white button-down, making sure that his attire was in order. He politely nodded to Martha when she placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of him.

“M’ always up in the mornings,” Harry shrugged, resolutely staring at his bowl as he spooned a mouthful of oatmeal.

“Harry,” Anne set her coffee mug down, “The sun isn’t even up.”

A blush colored his cheeks and he noncommittedly shrugged once more.

“Are you nervous about your date later?”

Harry slightly choked on his breakfast, his eyes enlarging while he pounded a fist against his chest. Anne gaped at her son as he roughly cleared his throat.

“Nervous?” Harry weakly laughed. He cleared his throat once more, “Why would I be nervous?”

Anne gave him a calculated look, “Because you’re already wearin’ your dress clothes and fussin’ over your cufflinks.”

Harry flushed and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. He lifted a shoulder, “M’ not nervous.”

“If you wanna go out earlier,” His mother flicked her fingers in the air, “I’m sure I could have a luncheon arranged instead of a dinner.”

“No, no, no,” Harry quickly stammered out, his fingers gripped around a polished spoon. He flinched at his own forcefulness and dropped the utensil, “I mean – I don’t even have my truck back yet.”

Anne frowned and turned around to look out the window as if to make sure he was telling the truth.

“Oh, I forgot all about that,” She laughed to herself. Anne shook her head with a grin on her face, “You can borrow my car, dear.”

“But,” Harry scrambled for words, not even sure why he was determined to get the truck from Louis himself. He scratched the back of his neck, “Wouldn’t it be rude if I wasn’t the one to get the keys from Louis?”

Anne’s nose scrunched in confusion, “Who’s Louis?”

“Um…The mechanic?”

“Right,” Anne rolled her eyes. “So, a luncheon?” She steamrolled on, “I can give Blossoms a ring.”

“Mama, no,” Harry slowly said. He wrung his hands in his lap, “I wanna be here to get my truck.”

Anne made a noncommittal sound before she mused, “Dinner would be more romantic anyways, wouldn’t it?” She didn’t wait for Harry to open his mouth before continuing, “Candlelit dinner, maybe a stroll downtown afterwards?”

“Sure,” Harry mumbled, fully knowing that he didn’t intend on going for a walk after enduring an entire dinner with Faye.

His mother made a pleased sound and Harry found that he hated the almost smug tilt of her mouth. Harry fixed his lips into a tight smile and continued to eat, mentally warding off his mother from asking any other questions. The rest of breakfast consisted of Anne watching Harry over the lip of her coffee and Harry staring at the window behind her.

When his bowl was cleared, Harry excused himself from the table with a muttered excuse. He strode towards the study and peeked inside, letting out an exhale when he saw that his father wasn’t inside. There was an impressive collection of books that lined the far wall, different colored spines uniformly organized in tight rows. His fingers danced over different titles before he stopped along a newer casing that was the color of cobalt. Carefully, Harry tugged The Great Gatsby from its makeshift home and meandered towards the outside deck.