I frown. “How did you handle that?”
She sighs, gripping the countertop while the bacon crackles in the pan beside her. “I told him that I’d be upset if someone stole my car and that we’d check on it this morning. Then he was angry that I wouldn’t let him go to work. But what do I do? Confuse him more by telling him that he retired years ago? It’s a nightmare.”
“You’re handling it the best you can,” I say, squeezing her shoulder as my heart splinters in my chest. The focus is always on Dad now, and what he needs and what’s best for him. Mom’s suffering, too. And it’s moments like that where I wonder how much she suffers in silence. “It can’t be easy to navigate this.”Especially since Dad never raised his voice once to you until he got sick.
“It’s not, Drake. It’s not.” She sags under my palm briefly before standing tall and sniffling. “But we can do hard things, and this is a hard thing we must do. Right?”
“This is a hard thing, and we will do it together. Preferably leaving Evie out of all important decisions because her answer to everything is a beach house.”
Mom laughs, picking up her fork. “It is, isn’t it?”
“Again, you raised her,” I say, giving her shoulder another gentle squeeze.
“No. That’s on your father. He’s the one who spoiled her rotten.”
“Sure. I wouldn’t take the blame for that either,” I tease. “Is Dad awake now? I heard the TV on and figured he was in there. I mean, the whole neighborhood probably can hear that TV …”
“Tell me about it. I’m ready to buy earplugs or accidentally lose the remote.” She grins as she removes two strips of bacon and places them on a bed of paper towels. “We had a slow morning and just eased into the day. He seems pretty good. Tired, but his mind is pretty clear.”
“I’m gonna go say hi.”
She reaches for a plate. “I’ll bring your sandwich to you.”
Each step I take toward the living room feels like the beat of a drum. Pictures of my sisters and me hang on the walls, reminiscent of a time when the old man sitting in a brown recliner with his back to me was a six-foot-three, barrel-chested behemoth who could bench-press a small car. Flames burn a hole in my chest as I approach my dad, a shell of the man he once was.
“Hey, Pops,” I say, keeping my voice light and easy.
He flinches, gripping his armrests, and it takes a split second for him to recognize me.
“Drake!” He stands, shoving himself up with shaky arms. I don’t rush in to help him. He’s capable, and I know howdefeating it would be for him to think he was weak in my eyes.I’ll never let that happen. “How are you, boy?”
Dad pulls me into a hug. He pats my back and runs a hand along the top of my head like he did when I was a child.
“I’m good,” I say, as he releases me. I search for the remote and turn the TV down.No wonder he didn’t hear me come in. I can’t hear myself think.“How are you? You look great.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m doin’ just fine. Your mother takes damn good care of me.” He sniffs. “Do I smell bacon?”
Laughing, I take a seat on the sofa under the window. “Yeah, I don’t know how you can smell it over the sound of the TV.”
Dad chuckles. “That’s what your mom says all the time. Tells me to turn it down. Hell, if you can’t hear it, you might as well turn the damn thing off.”
“She might not be mad about that.” I toss one of the million throw pillows out from under my ass. “She’s making me a sandwich. You know Mom. She has to feed me as soon as I walk in the door.”
“Yeah, you gotta let her do that. It makes her happy, and there’s nothin’ I like more in this world than to see your mother happy.” He takes his seat again, exhaling in a rush as his back rests against the chair. “How was the trip out here? You came in from Chicago—no, you’re in Nashville now. That’s right.”
“Yeah, I’m in Nashville. The drive up was easy this morning. No farm equipment hogging the roads. Great weather. Couldn’t have asked for a better trip, really.”
He nods. “I heard your sisters are coming today.”
“Why does everyone call them my sisters? They’re your daughters.”
He chuckles, his cheeks growing rosy.
“Yeah, Mom said they were coming this afternoon to hang out with you for a while.” I make a face that makes his chuckle turn into a full-bellied laugh. “Lucky you.”
“Your mother thinks I can’t be here alone.” The laughter subsides and a somberness sweeps across his features. “She hid my keys from me. Hell, she hired a neighbor boy who doesn’t know shit from Shinola to mow our lawn.” He throws up his hands in exasperation. “Can you believe that? The kid doesn’t even get the lines right, and he just about killed your mother’s rose bushes.” He huffs, clenching the armrests. “I don’t know what we pay him but it’s double too much.”
“I think she just wants you to enjoy your retirement, Pops.”
