Seeing as Lavington’s services were no longer needed, the man made his way to the door and exited the room. It smelled too much like a hospital and John, after the incident with his father, was not a fan of such establishments. They gave him shivers. Instead, John went downstairs to help his mother to clear the table.
At present, the woman sat at the table, her head bowed in deep thought. But when she heard someone coming down, her eyes shot upward to the entrance to see her son come in with an air of deep thought engulfing him whole. He gave a smile, coming over to Mar Lavington. “Well,” said John and fell into silence. “Take those dishes,” his mother replied. She stood up, swaggering a bit, but catching herself in time.
John went on like Mrs. Lavington told him. He piled the dishes one on top of the other under the sharp gaze. “John, I know there’s something you’re not telling me,” she finally addressed the man, shattering silence with open bluntness. “What is it?” She was in no way aggressive in her inquiry, quite the opposite. There was a gentle note in her voice, pleading even, as her whole person appealed to John’s sense of right.
“I can’t tell you everything right now, but there’s nothing for you to worry about,” began Lavington. He picked up the pile of dishes and carried it over to the counter, loading the dishwasher. “Sullivan is just a very complicated person and… he didn’t have an easy life. I don’t expect you to understand that, Mutti, but accept it as it is.” Mrs. Lavington blinked. What was he talking about? It made no sense. She needed a reason for such an outburst. She simply needed it, but John evaded her, making the woman ever more uneasy. Who was this Sullivan Marion
At present, the woman sat at the table, her head bowed in deep thought. But when she heard someone coming down, her eyes shot upward to the entrance to see her son come in with an air of deep thought engulfing him whole. He gave a smile, coming over to Mar Lavington. “Well,” said John and fell into silence. “Take those dishes,” his mother replied. She stood up, swaggering a bit, but catching herself in time.
John went on like Mrs. Lavington told him. He piled the dishes one on top of the other under the sharp gaze. “John, I know there’s something you’re not telling me,” she finally addressed the man, shattering silence with open bluntness. “What is it?” She was in no way aggressive in her inquiry, quite the opposite. There was a gentle note in her voice, pleading even, as her whole person appealed to John’s sense of right.
“I can’t tell you everything right now, but there’s nothing for you to worry about,” began Lavington. He picked up the pile of dishes and carried it over to the counter, loading the dishwasher. “Sullivan is just a very complicated person and… he didn’t have an easy life. I don’t expect you to understand that, Mutti, but accept it as it is.” Mrs. Lavington blinked. What was he talking about? It made no sense. She needed a reason for such an outburst. She simply needed it, but John evaded her, making the woman ever more uneasy. Who was this Sullivan Marion