The Land Of Milt And Honey – seven

While Milton Korn continued returning home to his mother’s midtown row house, Honey Bloom was returning to a splendid, lonely apartment near the top of a highrise. Her balcony looked out across the city. Inside, the thick, creamy colored wall to wall carpet was in harmony with the pastel upholstery colours.

The walls were a pale, warm tangerine shade, while accents were in the paintings, large and small, that covered much of the walls. All of the paintings were the work of Honey, herself. She never had a showing or sale of her work, because she didn’t intend for it to have commercial value. It was just her way of relaxing alone.

The paintings were each neatly framed with thin, black frames. Within the frames, each picture had an inch wide border bringing the dimensions of each framed picture to approximately twelve by fourteen. A handful of larger paintings were twenty-two by twenty-four, and many smaller works were seven by ten. It had become irritating for Honey to live in a place where it seemed like she was staring back at herself from the walls.

At the homey home where the Korn family lived, there was only Rebeca Korn, aging mother of Milton Korn who was about to upset the old, clinging woman.

“I want to get my own place, Ma,” Milton said.

“For what do you need the expense… the headache? This is your home, Milton, for as long as you like,” Ma said.

“I have a friend at work who also wants a new place,” Milton said. “We think if we go partners, we can handle the finances to get a country place with plenty of room.”

“For what do you need room, Milty?” Ma said. “You have the run of the house here, and your own bedroom, and a separate room for your work. What more does a boy need?”

“That’s kind of the point, Ma,” Milt said. “I’m not really a boy anymore.”

“To me, you’ll always be my boychick, Milty.”

“I’m not a boy because I’m a man, and a man should have his own place,” Milton said.

“What about me? What will happen to me, all by myself here,” Ma said.

“I’ve been talking to your daughter,” Milt said. “She’d like to stay with you now.”

“You mean your sister?” Ma said. “She would come to me?”

“She said she’s sorry about your quarrel and she wants to make it up to you,” Milt said.

“Really?” Ma said. “Do you think you can trick your own mother? Shame on you.”

“Okay, the truth is her business isn’t doing too well, and she’d like to give up her apartment,” Milt said.

“Ah hah! I thought so,” Ma said.

“What’s the difference, Ma?” Milt said. “You can reconcile, you can make amends, she can help you here just like I did. Don’t you like the idea of helping your errant daughter?”

“We’ll see. I want to meet this fellow you want for a partner,” Ma said.

“It’s… ah… it’s not a fellow, Ma. It’s a lady,” Milt said.

“A lady?” Ma gasped. “You’re going to live with a woman?”

“She’s a very nice person, responsible and intelligent,” Milt said.

“Bring her for supper… no, lunch, on Sunday,” Ma said. “Supper, she might expect to spend the night. Lunch on Sunday, understand? I want to see what kind of whore this woman is.


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