With a bit of elbow grease and determination, the bolt finally moved, and Dad was able to remove it. He tossed it aside and examined whatever he was deconstructing. “Nearly done. Want to find me a Phillips?”
“Sure.”
We spent twenty minutes in relative silence as Dad disassembled what he claimed was a vintage rowing machine he’d found at an antique shop. I didn’t ask why he had felt compelled to buy it and who he was restoring it for. It barely mattered.
Once every piece was laid out on the bench, Dad grabbed a rag and wiped his stained fingers. Only then did he look at me properly. “You’re in one piece. That’s good.”
I nodded, unsure what to say, unable to move my gaze from the workbench and the rusty parts spread over its surface.
“Good camping weather?”
“It was okay.”
“Get some good pictures?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Your sister’s been looking for you.”
“I found her.”
He nodded, still examining me. Tossing the rag aside, he sighed. “You doing all right, Gale?”
No, I wanted to say, but I went with a strangled, “Yeah. I’m fine.” I was clearly not fine, and he knew it.
Dad took me at my word and didn’t ask further questions. It was our way. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. There’s stuff for taco bowls. Are you hungry?”
My stomach was in a knot, but I nodded. “I could eat.”
We headed inside and moved around one another in companionable silence as we prepared and microwaved supper. Deconstructed tacos over a bed of white rice was one of Dad’s favorites. He liked his spicy, but I passed on the extra jalapenos and hot sauce.
“Are you hanging around for a bit?” Dad asked as we ate.
“I guess.” I snapped a Tostitos in half and nibbled the edge. “Did you get the lawn mower fixed?”
Dad chuckled. “Nope. Travis from the car lot said he’d send his nephew to take a look at it. Not sure when. Kid named Lex. Do you know him? I guess he runs around with Ozrik.”
My blood turned to ice. I focused intently on my dinner. “We’ve met once. I don’t really know him.” Then, steering us back to the original conversation, I asked, “Do you need me to take the push mower out?”
“We can share the job tomorrow if you’re around.”
“I’ll be around.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Nothing more was said. We washed the dishes together, and once the kitchen was clean, I announced my intent to head to bed.
Before I slinked away, Dad ruffled my hair and yanked me into a hug. He held on longer than was usual and squeezed, like he knew my pieces were coming unglued.
Before releasing me, he kissed my temple and whispered, “I love you, kiddo. Don’t forget that.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
20
Ozrik
It had been three days since we returned from Newton. Instead of sticking around to review videos or discuss the trip, I’d helped unload the gear into Lex’s garage, told Noah to send whatever we’d recorded to Charles—unedited for a change—then, I took off.
