“Which means what? I’m old? No thanks. I lead by example.” Leaving his work boots on the back porch, along with his hard hat, Dad picked up his metal lunch box with its large green thermos and headed inside. “I don’t have anything for dinner. How long you in town this time?”
“I’ll pick up a pizza from Tony’s.” Tony’s made the best pizza—which was saying something, considering all the pizza Matt tasted around the world. “And, um, I think I’ll stay for a while, if it’s okay. Got a break in my schedule. What do you want? Pepperoni?”
“Sounds good.”
“Got anything to drink?” Matt opened the fridge to find milk, iced tea, and beer. Good enough.
Dad washed up at the sink like he’d done Matt’s whole life. Matt watched as he wiped down his lunch box, rinsed the coffee from his thermos, and knocked the crumbs from his sandwich container. He tossed a couple of baggies and a wadded napkin into the trash before storing the whole kit in the pantry—everything in the Knight house had a place.
Dad was still lean and muscled, with a thick head of silverish hair. Matt had inherited Dupree Knight’s good looks and his mother Mimi’s flair for the dramatic.
“The mayor came by the rink today.” Matt shut the kitchen door against the heat. “Are you for this thing the town wants to do? Tear down the rink?”
“I’m not one way or the other,” Dad said. “Granny’s eighty-seven, Matt. I know she believes Jesus is going to meet her at the Starlight and skate with her on a rainbow through the pearly gates, but it’s more likely she’s going to fall and hurt herself. She still skates every Tuesday night after closing. If she fell, we’d never know it. I told her to call me when she gets home, but she never remembers.”
“Telling her to slow down or retire isn’t the same as smashing the Starlight with a wrecking ball, Dad.”
“No, I reckon not.” He leaned against the counter, towel stillin his hands. “One of the fellas on the job today told me you cut up pretty good out in Hollywood. Said his wife read about you in some column. You were in a fight and dragging your Porsche down Sunset Strip?”
“I don’t remember the fight, and Steve was behind the wheel of the Porsche.”
“I’d think you’d had enough drag racing for one lifetime. You wrecked your Cuda—”
“Booker wrecked it.”
“Can’t imagine what you’re like all spiced up. You had a few beers as a teen and told everyone—”
“Don’t.” Matt stood in the opening between the kitchen and dining room, facing the opposite window, flexing his bruised hand. “I know what happened. Never mind my agent and publicist, who quit by the way, already read me the riot act.”
“Seems to me, Matt, you’re still letting things eat at you.” Dad draped the towel over the stove handle to dry. “Is it your mom?”
“You’ve been reading those pop psychology articles at the barber shop again.”
“You know my pa wasn’t around much when I was growing up. Then World War Two came. I know what it feels like to wonder if you’re loved.”
“Mom loved me. She just died before I really knew it. Besides, Granny loved both of us enough for three or four people.”
Mimi Knight drowned in the Gulf when he was two. While he had no memories of her, sometimes a soft, feminine voice hummed through his dreams.
“You and Granny did a good job.” Matt held his dad’s gaze for a moment, but mushy stuff had never felt natural between them. The ticking of the grandfather clock ten feet away in the living room filled the silence. “It’s not your fault I do dumb stuff now and then.”
“That so?” Dad reached out, grabbed Matt in for a hug, and gently slapped the side of his head. “Then I expect you to come home more than every other year, Lieutenant Striker.”
“Aha, you told me you hadn’t seen the movie.”
“Of course I have. The guys wouldn’t let me live it down if I didn’t go to opening night.”
“Is that the only reason you saw it?”
Dad started down the hall. “I’m hitting the shower.”
“Did you like it?” Matt called after him. “It was based on real events. Some of the men who survived that air battle were on set.”
Dad paused. “Your Uncle LJ would’ve been proud.”
“What about my dad?”
“He’s proud too. He just doesn’t want you to get a big head.”
