He saw The Fountainhead open facedown next to the phone. They both looked up at him, so he smiled apologetically and gave a quick just-me wave so they’d go on with their business. He could see the colorful squatting figure and the long spear. Dina sat at the couch with a tall blond lady viewing the Seminole Fisherman litho laid out on the glass coffee table. Being nosy, Cordell crept into the front room and sat behind the desk in the squeaky high-backed swivel chair. That it came wrapped in parchment in a gold-embossed, 100 percent yellow rag folder, with all the papers, also collectible. He hung up the clothes and hunted through piled-up boxes in the bedroom for his long-sleeved Bulldogs shirt and spikes, while down the hallway he heard Dina explaining the details of one of her dad’s lithographs, that it was a numbered, limited edition which would instantly double in value when the last print sold.
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Dina’s mom, Peggy, had tossed him the keys to her car, saying, “Take the Mercedes.” It was December, high-school winter break, but he still had practice every day. He parked in back after seeing a shiny black Jaguar in the front driveway and went in the kitchen door. Photo: Rachel FolmarĪ teenager finds himself living in the shadow of his lover’s deceased boyfriend.Ĭordell stopped by the gallery to drop off more of their clothes and gather his baseball gear.
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Cliff jumping at Tenkiller Lake, August 2011.