Angels Among Us

Angels Among Us: Chapter 7

Chapter 7

“Is that my grandson?!” Wallace Lockwood boomed as soon as Gabe escorted Joy and Simon into the Lockwood family home.

Gabe sighed.

He had hoped that his grandfather would behave today, when he met Joy, but it seemed Grandad was in one of his tenacious moods.  Not knowing what Joy expected from her first glimpse of his grandfather’s house, Gabe watched her carefully as they entered the security gates and the limousine wound its way past the private lake and stopped in front of Wallace Lockwood’s “mansion” on the outskirts of the city.

But Gabe had to smile when he saw Joy’s frown of perplexity.  She probably thought they would be going to one of those plantation type homes with the large two-story white columns and grand porches.  Instead, the house that Gabe grew up in -- the same home that his dad and sister grew up in -- was an add-on to an add-on of a hundred-year-old farm house.  Granted, it had six bedrooms, seven bathrooms, two kitchens, and four separate living areas, but it was still a woodsy structure of sprawling walls, windows and angles.

Simon said it best when he emerged from the limo got a really good look at it.  “It looks like the Weasley house from HarryPotter...only flatter.”

Gabe absolutely, flat-out, roared with laughter.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, he looked down at Simon and said, “Wait until you see the inside.”

But once they crossed the threshold, all his mirth disappeared at the sound of Wallace’s deafening question.  Joy actually took a step backward and bumped into his shoulder.  

“I’m going to apologize now,” he muttered to both of them.  “It seems Grandad is in one of his moods.”

Just then, Wallace Lockwood rounded the corner from the library and stomped dauntingly across the entry hall -- not an easy pretense to pull off in cargo shorts, a holey sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off and hemp rope flip flops.  Gabe's grandfather wasn’t a large man, only standing at a height of five-foot-nine-inches and topping one-hundred-forty pounds, but he had a presence about him that belied his uncouth, wiry stature.  His thick, gray hair stood up at every angle, never having a tame day in it’s existence, and his midnight blue eyes -- Gabe’s eyes -- peered like a hawk at the trio standing just inside the front door.  

“‘Bout time you got here,” Grandad hollered -- Gabe suspected his grandfather might be going deaf.  He seemed to just get louder every year.  “My gut’s about to gnaw a hole through my spleen.”

“I told you we’d be here by twelve-thirty and to not hold lunch for us,” Gabe answered calmly.  “I think we’ve made good time.  It’s only a quarter after.”

“That Libby needs to learn to put the pedal to the metal,” Grandad scoffed, scowling as he came to a stop in front of them -- after which Libby, who entered the house behind Gabe, replied, “Cut it out, old man,” and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.  Wallace ignored Libby, as his eyes traveled up and down Joy.  He grunted, and then he turned to Simon.  “Who’s the squirt?”

Simon, ever the young gentleman, stuck his hand out.  “Simon Murphy, sir.  It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Whoa, ho!  A boy with manners!”  Grandad’s eyes twinkled as he gazed at Simon and gruffly pumped the boy’s hand.  “That your mother gawking at me, boy?”

And Gabe sighed again.  There was no helping the situation.  “Grandad--”

“Wallace Lockwood!” a feminine voice addressed behind Wallace, accompanied by the click, click of heels on hardwood floors.  Vicky came into view and smacked her husband alongside his ear.  “Watch your mouth, mister.”  Vicky smiled at Gabe and Joy and said, “You must be Mrs. Murphy.  I’m Vicky -- this no-good’s gracious wife -- and it’s a pleasure to meet you, too.  Both of you.  Gabe has told us so much about both of you.  Welcome to our home.”