The Old Man in the Club Read Online Free Page B

that rested on a pair of shelves next to photos of family members. “Make yourself comfortable.” He turned on some music. “You can get what you want. I’ve got to take a shower. Take off your shoes. Relax. Be right back.”
    Elliott disappeared to the right of the kitchen into his bedroom, eager to discard his urine-stained pants and freshen his body. Tamara slipped off her heels and took in the majestic view of his place and the city. She opened the sliding glass door and stepped onto the balcony. A breeze cooled the summer night air and added to her calm.
    She looked down at the traffic flowing on Interstate 85 and out at the buildings that illuminated the sky. She was a long way from her hometown of Waycross, Georgia, which was closer to Florida than it was to Atlanta. It was a friendly place, a wonderful place to grow up—but a place one had to escape to truly grow. At least that’s how she felt.
    Because her family had relatives in Detroit, Tamara’s father insistedshe look at schools in Michigan. It was a major point of discord between her parents, her mother preferring that their only daughter stay close.
    But Tamara saw beyond life in Waycross and told her mother a month before her senior high school year: “Daddy is right. What is there here for me? I love it here. But for me to not resent it, I have to get away.”
    Her mom, even in her disappointment, considered that a mature approach and eventually acquiesced. Tamara received a partial academic scholarship to Michigan State, where she met Elliott’s kids in her junior year. After graduating with a degree in political science, she volunteered on Barack Obama’s 2008 presidential campaign and later earned a job in the Atlanta mayor’s office.
    Tamara was ecstatic about her professional life. But she was tortured by her family life. Her dad had developed dementia. One summer during a visit from college he was as he always had been: soft-spoken but firm, funny and sentimental about his daughter. The next summer, he hardly could be trusted alone. His memory deteriorated and he went in and out of awareness more and more frequently. He attended her younger brother’s high school graduation, but no one was sure how much he actually absorbed or remembered.
    Seeing him that way pained Tamara, who had always been held up by her father’s strength. She admired him more than anyone. And he was a girl’s daddy. The only time she saw him at conflict with her mother was when he stood up for her in the face of her mom’s overprotection. Thinking about her dad on Elliott’s balcony brought tears to her eyes.
    â€œIt’s nice out here, isn’t it?” Elliott said from behind her. He startled Tamara, who wiped the corners of her eyes.
    â€œBeautiful out here,” she said, turning around. “Can we sit out here for a while?”
    Instead of answering, Elliott pulled a chair closer to the one Tamara sat down in and retrieved a candle from inside and placed it on the table in front of them.
    â€œI’m into creating a nice atmosphere,” he said.
    â€œNo complaints here,” Tamara responded.
    Both looked off at the view for a moment. Tamara broke the silence.
    â€œSo, what’s up with you, Mr. Thomas? You’re old enough to be my father or maybe even my grandfather. Why do you like hanging out at spots around young people? What’s your story?”
    â€œWhat’s my story?” he repeated. “It’s a mystery, a drama, a tragedy, a comedy, in some cases. And, I guess I’m trying to get it to be a fantasy.”
    â€œYou said a lot but you didn’t say much,” Tamara said, “if you know what I mean.”
    She was young, but smart, which made Elliott interested. He had dated many twenty-somethings. Only a few of them held his interest.
    â€œYou mean you want specifics,” Elliott said. “Okay, in general, I’ll explain it this way: I