Chapter 13 #2
Taking the steps down, I grab the grocery bag of grapefruits handed from the backseat. She meets my eyes, touches her lips and waits for the proper hello.
“Definitely.”
I lean in and kiss her sweet tasting lips. I hear his laughter.
“What’s so funny?” I say.
“You two. It’s nice. Makes me happy.”
“It’s all his fault,” Kim says, pointing my way. Then turning to Dad, “And yours.”
Climbing the stairs, she takes a seat on the old Adirondack chair next to Dad. She touches his hand briefly, just as a hello.
“What did I do?”
“It’s a question of DNA. Your son inherited your manly appeal. It’s irresistible.”
He waves the words off with a chuckle, but I know he liked them. I did.
“Unfortunately, you are hiding it with that crazy beard. Shame, really.”
It sounds like a throw away comment, but I think it is her way of getting him to consider cleaning up. Maybe I am reading too much into things.
It has probably been a long time since a woman saw him that way.
He pretends she is bullshitting the compliment, but I know different.
There was a time he was handsome in a rugged, biker way.
And I suppose women found him cool and even sexy.
Mom did. That was before time and loneliness altered the picture.
He could not care less about those things now.
As evidenced by the faded T-shirt and the general dishevelment that never was before.
I deposit the grocery bag inside the door on top of the table. Then rejoin the sky watchers. Pulling her chair close to mine, I take her hand. Fingers braid.
“Where’s the B Boys?”
Dad’s hand comes up and sweeps the vista.
“They’re running the range. Barney’s adventuresome nature has rubbed off on Biscuit. I don’t mind.”
“I hope not,” I say, suddenly aware too much time has passed since they took off. “Barney doesn’t know when to quit.”
“So tell me about the proposition. What are you two cooking up?”
“I need your help. None of these other people know how to handle my bullshit.”
“Oh, and I do?”
“Yep.”
“I consider that a great compliment, Ronnie.”
“We were thinking, if you agree, we could hire you to stay here and take over Dad’s rehab. You know, make sure he’s following the doctor’s instructions for therapy. The meds. Also, just oversee things while I’m at the bar, or working the property. Is that something you would consider?”
Dad jumps in before Kim can answer.
“There’s not too much in it for you. You’d have to cook. The pay will be rotten and I can get a little grumpy, like my son. Not as bad, but it happens occasionally.”
“Gee, don’t sugarcoat it, Dad.”
“So we need to know what it would take for you to say yes.”
Kim takes a few beats to consider her options.
“A few things. One, and this is the most important, there has to be a lot less yelling. Not at me, but at each other.”
Dad and I look at her like two schoolboys being called out for fighting at recess. Each blaming the other with their eyes.
“It’s our way,” he says.
“I noticed. And I think it’s ridiculous.”
“Ha!” I add the proper sound effect.
“I have no interest in living in a home that tolerates bad behavior. I didn’t put up with it with Hunter, and I won’t with you two. You love each other. It’s beneath you to show the disrespect.”
Guess she told us. It settles in my mind for awhile before responding.
“We’ll try. It isn’t a dealbreaker. Right, Dad?”
“Break a lifelong habit? Sure. Give us an hour or two.”
Kim stares him down and it looks like she has another card up her sleeve.
“So Victoria put up with you two going at each other? That surprises me.”
Oh, snap. She’s got him there.
“Well, not exactly.”
“She wouldn’t tolerate it either. Come on, Dad. You know that’s true.”
Kim doesn’t wait for his agreement.
“So let’s just reboot. You got into a bad habit. You can reverse it again. For me this time.”
“Okay, okay. Don’t run it in the ground,” he says as a deep line appears between his eyes.
She ignores the ominous look.
“Good. You’re going to survive, I promise.”
“What else?” I ask.
“I’m available till the middle of August. When Hunter returns from his road trip I want to spend the last few weeks together before he goes back to college.”
“That gives us plenty of time. Six weeks or so. Great. I should have the property cleaned up and you should be fine on your own by then, right Dad?”
“Sure.”
There is no confidence behind his agreement or mine. Kim will change that. I think. I hope.
“What about the money? What would be acceptable? We are planning on selling a few pieces of equipment and I think we will be able to swing a thousand or two.”
Her hand comes up, stopping my pitiful offer.
“No. This will be an act of friendship. I have the means to take care of Hunter and myself, thanks to my husband’s life insurance.
I invested it early on, and over the years didn’t spend more than I could afford.
That’s how I was able to work part time at Holly’s clinic.
Money wasn’t the draw. Feeling like I was making a difference was.
You are buying me another month or so before I have to stop putting the job hunt off. ”
“No, no. That’s very nice of you, Kim, but I couldn’t feel good about myself if we didn’t come to an agreement,” Dad says with no room for discussion.
She leans back in her chair and stretches her legs out. She meets his gaze.
“Then I want you to pay me in other ways. You can’t monetize everything in life, Ronnie.
For me, there are things you can do that mean more.
You’re asking me to be in charge of overseeing your physical therapy.
That I am willing to do. But there are jobs you need to do to get back your life, and they involve more than leg lifts.
If you agree, it will be payment enough.
And we will gradually add to your abilities. Each week there will be some new goal.”
“What kind of jobs?”
“Number one. Why don’t you cook for us? You can make it to the kitchen.”
“Oh shit,” he says under his breath.
“I will order the food and handle the cleanup, but it will be your job to plan and execute the meals, not mine.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” I add my two cents.
“You would,” Dad says.
He realizes it isn’t going to be the easy time he was hoping for. Kim is not one to be handled. Not by him, not by Hunter, and not by me. She is cut from the same strong cloth Mom was. I love that about her.
“So what do you say, guys? Are we clear on our roles?” She dips the statement in a little sugar.
“I am.”
“One more thing,” Dad says, acting like he didn’t hear the question.
“What’s that?”
“If you two are sleeping together, sleep together here. We’re all adults and I don’t want anybody walking around on eggshells. It bothers me.”
Is he for real?
“I wasn’t going to ask your permission!”
That may have been a little sharp. I hear it and correct.
“I mean, thanks. We will.”
He accepts my do-over by not telling me to piss off.
She is affecting us already but ignores the obvious chance to gloat. Lips are pressed tight though. She is holding something in that would like to be said. I have begun to be able to read her face, paying attention to the small details that make her. Interesting.