The apartment complex could have benefited from some improvements, but the rent was cheap, and a family of three didn't need all that much space. On a day like this one, Ghent couldn't help but miss their home in the country. Miles underneath the awning, a middle aged man who was never seen without a cigarette in his hand. "Hey Miles."
Through a puff of smoke, Miles acknowledged him with a nod as he often did, and Ghent allowed himself inside. The building was drafty, and Ghent headed up the long, creaky stairway in order to reach room number 08. Ghent could tell by the overwhelming aroma of perfume that Mrs. Saxon had graced their apartment with a visit.

Mrs. Saxon was in her early 50's or so, and she was never without an interesting tidbit of gossip to pass on. Ghent wouldn't have minded her, but she was critical of him as if he were her own son. "You wouldn't believe what she told me, Elise." Once again, she was busy telling tales, and before Ghent had a moment to listen in, Mrs. Saxon gave an unearthly shriek.
"[i]You almost stepped on William![/i]"

One may assume that William was a child, but this was far from the truth. William was an overweight Persian cat, one that shed without being pet and couldn't be left alone, hence her bringing him on her daily gossip run. Ghent could already feel his eyes watering; he could have sworn he was allergic to the beast. "Sorry," he mumbled under his breath, annoyed at both. 
"Ghent! You're soaked!" Elise abandoned the coupons she'd been clipping in order to greet her son. There weren't many so kind nor hardworking, Ghent was certain of that. How fortunate he was to have been found by her and not Mrs. Saxon. The very idea was enough to make him shiver, which did not go unmissed by his mother. "Go on and get changed before you catch a cold; there's a surprise for you upstairs." 

* * *

The hall was narrow and lined with photographs of various family members; some that he'd yet to meet. Ghent fixed one of the frames as he passed it; it seemed to fall crooked every morning, and it was part of his daily routine to adjust it. When Ghent came to his room, he was unprepared for what he was to find.
"Surprise!" There stood Elise's nephew, Henry. Henry must have been around fourteen (Ghent couldn't quite remember) and he jumped over the Legos he'd been busying himself with in order to greet the older of the two. "How goes it, cousin? Wow, look at you! All grown up and everything!"

If there was ever to be another live action Huckleberry Finn movie, Ghent was positive that Henry could have fit the role. "I saw you last year, Henry." A year hadn't changed either very much; his cousin looked just as he remembered him. Red mussed hair. Brown eyes. More freckles than he knew what to do with. Back home, they had lived only an hour apart. Now they lived half a day away. "So...how are you?"

"Oh, fine and dandy. I was just cleaning things up in here. You're not very organized, are you?" Henry clicked two Legos together, then nodded towards him. "You're drippin' water all over the carpet, cousin. You should probably change your clothes."
It was here that Ghent took notice that the spare cot had been set up, and he came to the assumption that 'cousin Henry' was here for a lengthily stay. "Yeah...right. I'll get right on that," he tried not to stare, but he was mildly alarmed. Henry was a decent kid -- he'd known him his entire life, and he was the only one who didn't believe Ghent ridiculous for his former belief in Wonderland. Despite the age gap, they'd always been fairly close, but Ghent could only take so much of his company. "Here, I got you something." The older of the two removed the comics from his jacket, and Henry lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. 
"Whoa, really?! For me? Wow, thanks!" Henry admired the covers, then sat himself on the edge of his bed. Organizing the room could wait; he hadn't any comics of his own back home, and so this was quite the treat.

"Don't mention it. I'll be back later." Once he'd grabbed a t-shirt and jeans, Ghent left the room in hopes of obtaining some answers as to what was going on. After he'd changed into dry clothes, Ghent returned to the too-small kitchen. Mrs. Saxon and William had left by now, and for that he was grateful. Mrs. Preston was preparing dinner, and she smiled once more to see her son. "Were you surprised?" 
Ghent rubbed the back of his neck wearily, he had planned an array of questions, but he hadn't the heart when he saw how pleased she was. Elise was very close to her sister, and she doted on her nephew. While nothing had been said to confirm it, Ghent had an inkling that Henry's family was going through a difficult time. "Yeah, I was," he cleared his throat, then used his shoulder to wipe at an eye. William was to blame for this.

"Ghent! Are you crying?" Elise was astonished; it was rare to see him cry, and the sight warmed her heart. "I know you've missed him; oh, you should have heard him talking about you! He really looks up to you -- do you think Frank will mind if you bring him to work? We're out of milk, sweetie." Though a beautiful soul, his mother had the tendency of covering several topics all at once. Understandably, it was a lot to take in. 
"I'm not crying! I'm allergic to William," Ghent quickly denied such an accusation; he was so busy with coming to terms with Henry staying that he'd forgotten his former job. "No. Frank won't care." Now was not the time to break the news to her; she had enough on her mind. "Don't worry about the milk, alright? I'll run down to the gas station and pick up a gallon. The rain's stopped."

It took a while to talk Mrs. Preston into allowing him to leave, but after he promised to bring the family cellphone, Ghent left once more. The milk was only an excuse; he needed a chance to clear his head. 

Miles was still outside, they exchanged 'hey's' for the second time that day, and once Ghent was out of the vicinity of cigarette smoke, he took a breath of the evening air. Even in the city, the aftermath of rain smelled good. 

Life had been repetitive as of late. Aside from Henry, not much had changed, and Ghent did not believe his current circumstances would ever allow him the chance to amount to much. While the thought was somewhat depressing, he accepted it. Bettering the lives of his parents was his first priority; they had taken care of him, and he felt it his duty to return the favor.