i just want you to be happy

Part 2

Maurice peeked his head in the bottom right pane of his kitchen window. From here he could see the street, and he knew his driver would be picking him up soon. It was morning and buildings from across the street casted a shadow that covered half of the road. While he waited for his driver, he could not help but notice the wall he was facing was mustard yellow, while the other three were red. There ought to be some extra paint in the cupboard in the rec room, he could take care of that later. His gaze shifted from the wall coloring to the numerous enchanting paintings that were scattered on the walls. They were of landscapes, architecture, and people, happy people. He did not recall there being so many. He removed himself from the window and walked down the hallway to his bedroom. More paintings hung on the walls. They were beautiful. A tear came to Maurice's eye before remembering he needed to look for his driver waiting for him on the New York streets.

His driver was a full of positive spirit. Jovial and engaging, Maurice thought he was a good ol' boy. With his newsboy hat on, Maurice looked out of the passenger seat window with a grin on his face, brownstones passing by like columns in a slot machine. The buildings were stately and welcoming, and he leaned towards the window with his index finger extended, like a zoo- goer deciding whether to tap on the glass. Well into their trek, Maurice stuck his hand into his pocket. He felt the sandy marble and rolled it around in his palm, his fist pulsating to feel the rigidity of his prized item. He decided to pull it from his pocket and show the driver. It was in his garden, he said, and he asked if the driver had a son. Maurice had always wanted one. The driver quickly diverted his glance from the road and looked at the marble. After that, he grew quiet. He sniffed a few times and wiped his face with the sleeve of his corduroy jacket. Maurice decided maybe it was not the best idea to ask the driver about his personal life.

After the visit, Maurice's mouth felt extremely clean. His tongue wiped over his smooth teeth and the bubblegum flavoring reminded him of opening packs of baseball cards when he was a boy. He smiled as the brownstones cycled by in front of his eyes. They pulled up in front of his apartment, and the driver asked if he was ready for his lease to be up. Maurice had not thought about his lease until last night, and decided it was best for him to read it thoroughly before he decided to leave. He was not sure where he was going to go once it ended. Pushing up on the center console, Maurice assured the driver he was fine to get into his apartment. He had a lot of work to do, his sitting room needed a fresh coat of paint. The driver smiled and told Maurice to take care. Maurice ate an orange on his couch until the sun went down, and Diane came over to give him his pills.