“Drills,” she grumbled. “Then about to eat six ounces of chicken breast even though I don’t want it. What are you doing?”
I didn’t bother to tell her that she liked chicken breast, and that she could eat anything else she wanted. Instead, I told her what I was doing.
“Going to Mom and Dad’s.”
“Why?” She sounded affronted that I would even think of doing such a thing.
It was understandable.
Our parents sucked.
Our childhoods had sucked.
My dad sucked more than my mom, but they were both so close in suckage that really there was no point in denying it.
“Because I heard from someone at the church while I was at the grocery store that my parents were both sick, and maybe I should go check on them.” I groaned. “The way she made it sound was that they were both on their deathbed. And maybe I’m hoping to walk in the door and find them both lying on the floor.”
Nettie started cackling.
“Maybe that was a little harsh…”
“Not harsh, and you know it,” Nettie grumbled. “Call me when you get done. Or maybe I’ll call you. Give you an excuse to leave.”
“Perfect,” I said. “That’s actually why I was calling.”
“Not to tell me about your date?”
“Not only to tell you about my date.”
“Get it over with,” she said. “I’ll be calling in ten.”
We hung up and I glanced up at my childhood home.
It still looked just as perfect as the day I’d left it.
Too perfect.
Too pristine yard.
Too perfectly shoveled front walk and driveway.
I hurried into the house, my toes about to fall off due to the frostbite that was licking at the little piggies.
“Mom?”
Nothing.
“Dad?” I called out.
Again, nothing.
Hanging my coat up by the front door, I slipped off my snow-covered boots and rushed toward the fire that was blazing in the wood stove.
Today had been a doozy, and I was exhausted.
And cold.
I wasn’t quite sure how I’d fallen into role of head coach for Jesper County, but I loved it. Mostly.
