2 Chapter 2

“I’m not grumpy,” Dad said grumpily from the front. “The damn thing hurts.”

“That’s what happens when you go hunting with yokels, old man,” I scolded.

“Well, the thing is,” Fred explained, “we were tracking a six pointer when your dad took his tumble.”

Dad grumbled softly at this point, but I ignored him.

“As we were trying to get your dad up on his feet—and him cussin’ and carryin’ on the whole while—we spotted a twelve point. Well, we all agreed we had to take the chance.”

Dad said, “And we were lucky your squealing at the sight of blood didn’t scare it away.”

“Your leg was bleeding?” I asked. I gritted my teeth. “How long did you wait before getting to the hospital?”

“I don’t know…three hours? Maybe four?”

God! They were stupid. All for a buck.

“At least we got it,” Dad concluded, a trace of smugness lacing his words.

Fred got the truck on the 376 which took us toward Pittsburgh proper. Fortunately, we could turn onto the 79 and skirt the city instead of crossing over the rivers to downtown. Pittsburgh was a beautiful sight—especially when entering from the Fort Pitt tunnel. Mom had always insisted we take the long way around to appreciate the sight.

Today, though, I just wanted to get to Dad’s house and mope.

Dad and Fred fell into an easy conversation. I half listened, my eyes taking in the beautiful green scenery flashing by. So different from Phoenix, with its cacti and dirt. I missed this lush landscape. The desert was beautiful with its starkness, this was beautiful for its vibrancy. I rolled down the window an inch so I could get the fresh, clean scent.

“So, how’re things?” Dad asked, turning his head to peer at me. I was surprised by the wrinkles on his face, the white streaks in his hair. He’d come out to visit me last Christmas—only nine months ago—but he looked so much older.

“Fine.” Realizing my answer was less than satisfactory, I pushed on. “I’m doing a lot of training videos currently. New HIPAA laws made all the companies update their policies.”

“As long as it keeps you busy,” Fred answered.

“I hope your internet’s up to par, Dad. I may have to fork out some money to get you upgraded.”

“It’ll be fine,” Dad reassured. “I never have a problem with it.”

I wrinkled my nose and looked back out the window. “My programs are a lot more sophisticated than what you use.” 2

Fred pulled up to Dad’s house a little before seven o’clock.

A flood of memories poured into me as we rode up the dirt driveway. We’d moved into this house when I was two, and I moved out at eighteen. So many years this had been my home; now I thought of it as Dad’s only.

The trees on the border of the yard were full of leaves and needles, and the bushes had a few wild blackberries left—the deer would have gotten the rest. Next to the shed was a fenced-in area where Dad kept his vegetable garden. A soft breeze stirred the short tufts that denoted radishes beneath the soil.

A stone cross sat in a neatly trimmed space right at the edge of the woods. From this distance, I could see the fresh flowers laying down in front of the spot.

A picture of serenity and peace. But dread filled me.

“Thanks Fred,” Dad said, shaking hands with the old man. “I appreciate you taking the trouble to drive us all over. Come by for dinner later in the week. Marty will cook as a thank you.”

“Of course,” I agreed. I also gave Fred a handshake, then accepted my luggage from him.

“Sounds fine, Mart,” Fred answered. “And go easy on your dad.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

I carried my luggage to the front door and sat it down, then went back to the truck to help Dad. The cast went above his knee, covering most of his leg. No wonder he’d need someone here to help. The thing looked awkward as hell. Plus, he had to be on major painkillers. Dad shouldn’t be alone if he was doped out of his mind.

I’d been brooding about how horrible it was to be back. But now I saw Dad really did need me. A bit of my reluctance fell away.

“Come on, Pop,” I said, putting my shoulder under his arm for support. “We’ll have to get you crutches.”

He leaned his weight on me and we started to the front door. “I don’t need ‘em. No reason to be out and about till this cast gets off.”

“Your insurance is covering the disability?”

“Yeah, a bit. You know how stingy those things are. But, I’m fine on money, so don’t go worrying.”

“Okay.”

The wooden porch leading to the front door was divided into levels. Four, to be exact, and that meant helping Dad climb up the steps to get to each one. How had Fred got him in the house after being discharged from the hospital? Fred, while as selfless as a person could be, was old as dirt. The two of them together was a bad combination. The two of them together with limited mobility was a recipe for disaster.