Model Home

by Merry Amelie (MerryAmelie@aol.com)

Archive: MA only

Category: Alternate Reality, Angst, Qui/Obi, Romance, Series

Rating: PG

Summary: A pretty facade

Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 83

A chronological list of the series with the URLs can be found under the header 'Academic Arcadia' at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/master-apprentice/files/

My MA story page: http://www.masterapprentice.org/cgi-bin/qs.cgi?keyword=Merry+Amelie

Feedback: Is treasured at MerryAmelie@aol.com Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.

For
My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, and Carol
Mali Wane for posting
My former betas: Alex and Ula

John Masterson hated visiting Alder Run. The little house in which his son lived with his best friend still seemed like a model home seven months after they'd moved in. The whiff of artifice he scented with the cappuccino Quinn handed him tempered his enjoyment of their conversation.

John felt surrounded by an antiseptic blandness, one that he'd noticed more faintly in Landowe. He thought privately that it resembled nothing so much as one of the stage sets he'd helped build in college: a pleasant painted backdrop designed to fool the eye.

He wondered who they thought they were fooling.

Ginny and he had never discussed this aspect of Quinn's life, as if not acknowledging it made it less real. He'd seen her pick up one of the four pictures on the mantel, swept clean of the ten other photos which would easily fit there. He had never found the telltale rectangles of dust-free wood he'd been half-expecting, only two sets of parents and sons, two sets of beaming college graduates. Not one snapshot of Quinn and Ian together.

What was wrong with this picture?

When he'd opened an end table drawer to get a coaster, John had seen a photo of them side by side on one of the area trails. They weren't even touching, yet it wasn't on display. He'd been by the armrest, on a couch cushion which looked pristine, next to two that were worn and indented. John tried not to imagine cozy nights in the sofa's embrace.

No pictures on the refrigerator, but appointment cards which told their own story. Same doctor, same dentist, same opthalmologist. The summer was the obvious time to catch up on their medical appointments.

Woven aqua placemats gave the dining nook a cozy air, just made for a tete-a-tete on a lazy July morning. The wooden napkin basket Ginny and he had given to Quinn after their trip to Maine added a glimpse of sunlit ocean to the table.

The model train set chugging around Quinn's office never failed to remind John of the one he'd intended to give a younger Quinn, if only his hectic schedule hadn't gotten the best of him. Ian had left his mark here as well, on the personalized carriages. Ginny had picked one up a few months ago, asking where Quinn had gotten such a unique set, and he had mumbled that Ian was the artist.

The master bedroom door was always closed when he and Ginny arrived, while Ian's putative bedroom remained open. The bed had the same air of dusty neglect that permeated the one in Quinn's childhood room. The closet door had peeked open one day, and John couldn't help but notice that there was no clothing inside, just stacks of paper on the shelves. Must be easier of a morning to have all their clothes near to hand.

The guest bathroom was obviously just that. The tub looked like it hadn't seen water since the previous owners had showered. Hand towels, rather than bathsheets. An ornamental soap with the Skyhawks logo looking fresh from its wrapper.

Such a lot of effort to maintain a pretty facade, such a lot of effort to go along with it. John wasn't sure which was harder: silence or speech.

John hated visiting Alder Run, but he loved his son with all his heart. He only hoped it would be enough to conquer his mind's misgivings.