“No, it’s this way.” He pointed the wrong way down the road. “I was almost there.” He sounded even more aggravated.
She rolled her eyes. “I better call Mom and let her know you’re okay.”
“I’m okay. People worry.”
“I know you’re okay ...now.” Instead of calling her mom, she texted Cooper. That way her dad wouldn’t have to hear the irritation in her voice. Oh, she knew he couldn’t understand why they were worried. Finding him half dead from heatstroke in the ditch on a hot afternoon ... No big deal, they worry too much, he was fine. She was still curious if his great escape had anything to do with his insistence they shouldn’t go to the Oroscos’ tonight, but she didn’t want to ask. Why poke a hornets’ nest? Instead she inquired about his bees. That was usually a safe subject.
“My bees?” His tone grew alarmed. “Need water. Too hot.”
“Cooper already took care of that for you.”
“Cooper?”
“The girl with the green hair.”
“That girl in my house?”
“Yes. That girl is my daughter. Your granddaughter.” How many times would she have to remind him of this?
“No, don’t know them. They live far away.”
Here we go again. She thought hard. How far gone was he today? Did his runaway experience worsen things in his brain? She wondered. “What about a wife?” she asked. “Do you have a wife?”
“I, uh, yeah. I think so.”
“What’s your wife’s name?”
He rubbed his unshaven chin. “Honey.” His tone softened. “Honey is sweet. Like honey.”
“Well, Honey is worried about you, Dad.”
He only said “Oh,” then stayed quiet the rest of the way. But he took little sips of water and fidgeted with the label on the plastic bottle, leaving Jewel to wonder what went on inside his brain. She wished she could sneak a peek at the goings-on in there. At the same time, it would probably scare her to death.
To everyone’s relief, Dad was worn out by the time he got into the house. It took all three of them to get him to bed, where he actually seemed eager to take a nap. After he was all settled in, they met in the kitchen for a little conference over some homemade lemonade. As Cooper filled glasses, Jewel explained what happened and exactly where and how she found Dad.
“I’m surprised he could even walk that far.” She felt embarrassed at the judgment and irritation in her voice. But it was honest.
“Well, it sure did him in,” Mom said quietly.
“Poor Grandpa.” Cooper sounded genuinely sympathetic as she set three full glasses on the table. “Did he do that just because of the Orosco barbecue? If it’s that big a deal to him, maybe we shouldn’t go.”
“No,” Mom declared. “We can’t let his condition rule our lives.”
“Really?” Jewel wasn’t so sure. “I don’t see how we can help it.”
Mom turned to Cooper. “You are going to the barbecue, my dear. And so is your mom.”
“What about you?” Cooper asked.
“I don’t know.” She sipped her lemonade. “If your grandpa’s having a rough time, I really don’t see how I could enjoy myself.”
“See, Mom,” Jewel pointed out. “Dad’s condition does rule your life.”
“Well, I’m his wife. I have to make concessions. You and Cooper don’t.”
“It’s not fair,” Jewel declared. She knew she sounded childish, but she was feeling seriously put out by the circumstances. Sure, her dad couldn’t help it ... or could he? Sometimes she wondered. So many of his actions and statements reminded her of a four-year-old’s temper tantrum. He only cared about himself and his own needs. Most of the time, it felt as if the rest of them didn’t even exist.
“Life isn’t fair,” Mom said solemnly. “Can I tell you girls something?”
