Chapter 2 - A Ticket Out
"Going somewhere?"
Dad glanced at the bag, then at the trays stacked in my arms.
"You rob a cafeteria?"
"Answer me first."
"Come in before you drop something."
His house smelled like coffee and lemon furniture polish.
A pot of canned soup sat on the stove.
On the counter was a bakery bag.
I carried in the food while he pulled chairs from the wall.
He moved carefully, favoring the knee he'd wrecked years earlier beneath a slipping transmission.
"Karen know you're here?"
"She knows where I was headed."
He looked at the turkey.
"You brought the whole bird?"
"Most of it."
"Rick."
"You weren't eating soup alone so somebody could enjoy a prettier guest list."
He pressed his lips together.
I caught him smoothing his tie, as though the problem might still be something he could fix about himself.
"Dad. The bag."
He opened a drawer and handed me a printed bus ticket.
Saturday morning.
Fort Wayne to Toledo.
"My sister said I could stay a while."
"Aunt Ruth thinks you're visiting?"
"For now."
"What does that mean?"
He took the ticket back.
"Means this house is a lot for one old man."
I looked toward the living room.
His bookshelves were half empty.
Cardboard boxes stood beneath the window where Mom's Christmas cactus used to bloom.
"You're moving?"
"Thinking about it."
"Since when?"
"Long enough to think."
My phone vibrated across his counter.
Karen's mother, Elaine.
Then her father, Howard.
Then Karen again.
Dad turned down the burner under his soup.
"You ought to answer your wife."
"She ought to answer for what she said."
"Both things can be true."
I opened Karen's message.
You embarrassed me in front of everyone. Tell them this was a misunderstanding and bring the food back.
Before I could respond, another message appeared.
This one came from our twenty-four-year-old daughter, Megan, who'd planned to arrive after her hospital shift.
Dad, Mom says Grandpa refused to come. Did he really?
I showed my father the screen.
He didn't seem surprised.
"How often has this happened?" I asked.
May you like
He stared at the single plate he'd set out for himself.
"Which part?"
