Lost in You
Page 7
“Stay.”
Buck gave an annoyed snuffle, but moved to the window facing the park, getting nose prints all over it.
As he came around the car, Joe knew the man was his father. It was a warm night so at least he didn’t have to worry about the cool temps and his dad out there in his pajamas.
Carl looked up at Joe’s approach, but there wasn’t much to it. Blank and a little sad.
“Hey, Dad.” Joe lifted a hand casually. He took up the swing on his dad’s other side. “Want a ride home?”
His father used a bare toe to push himself back and forth just a little. His expression, when he finally looked to Joe, was confused. His heart ached for a moment.
A wave of helplessness washed through Joe. This was way more than he was equipped to handle. There was something so wrong here. How the f**k was he going to make this better?
His dad’s eyes cleared a little, and he looked around and back to Joe. “Hey, Joseph. What are you doing out so late?”
“I could ask you the same.” He tried to keep his tone upbeat. “I’m looking for you. Mom’s worried. You’ve been gone for a while now. How about we go back and get her to make us some tea?”
His dad stood when he did, following along, a little lost. Growing up, Joe’s dad had always seemed so big. But in his bare feet with his pajamas and his thinning hair in disarray, he felt smaller. A shell, and Joe had to swallow back all that emotion. He needed to focus, to get his dad home safely. Then he could deal with the rest.
“You’ll have to share the front with Buck.”
His dad grinned at the dog. “Spoilt.”
Joe laughed. “So much.”
Carl scratched the dog’s ears as Buck rested his head on his thigh.
Joe didn’t know what to say. Or to do. He felt like he should admonish his dad for running off the way he had. He could have been hurt. But one look at the confusion on his father’s face and he knew it wouldn’t be heard. Maybe not even understood.
He didn’t know what to do about any of this stuff.
The drive back to his parents’ place was quiet. The streets were pretty empty. Thank goodness for Buck, who seemed to calm his dad down just by being there.
He pulled up at the curb and they got out, Buck hopping down and trotting next to Joe. His mother opened the screen door and took his father in.
She looked…old. Joe realized his dad wasn’t the only one who appeared smaller and more fragile. Coming back to Petal was more than taking them to the grocery store and watching over his dad’s uneven moods. This was so much more.
“I was worried about you.” She reached out, tentative, to touch his dad’s arm.
“A man needs a walk every once in a while.” His dad was gruff, but there was a lot of emotion there, just beneath the surface.
Standing there, unsure of what to do next, Joe noted the front entry was full of boxes and garbage bags.
“What’s all this?” his father asked.
“Your stuff. I pulled it back in. I’ll call first thing tomorrow and tell them not to come collect it.” His mother must have been planning to donate it to the charity shop in town.
Carl looked at it, opened a few boxes. Junk. Christ, it was boxes of stuff Joe knew damned well his father hadn’t used in years, or had more updated versions of.
His dad turned his attention to Joe. “Your blasted mother is throwing my life away.”
Her mouth hardened. “I don’t hardly think so, Carl. The shed is going to catch fire. Or rats. It’s full to the rafters out there. You don’t need any of this. Everything you use is in the garage. You know I didn’t touch any of that stuff.”
Joe noted how worn thin his mother appeared. He wished he knew how to help them both. But he didn’t. This little moment between the two wasn’t the issue. He understood enough to get that.
The problem was huge and he was one person.
One problem at a time. That was the one way he could see to get through this. He needed to draw on his training and simply deal with one thing. And then the next. And the next. It was the only strategy he could imagine that could solve what seemed pretty insurmountable.
“How about some tea? Maybe a little something sweet to go with it?”
His mother sent him a grateful look. “I think I can do that. Come on through. I’ve got some leftover roast beef for Buck. He should get a treat if everyone else does.”
He had tea at the dinner table with his parents. His mother moved around the room, pretty much the same way she had his entire life. The tabletop was smooth from use, from plates moving across the surface for decades. It was comforting here. Even his father had calmed a great deal. The confusion he’d been wearing on his features had faded, easing the panic that had seized Joe’s heart.
Buck was dozing in a far corner, on the cool linoleum, sprawled to get the full benefit on his belly.
They sat for a while in sort of companionable silence. Joe didn’t quite know what to do next so he let his mother lead.
Finally she patted his hand. “You should get on home. I know you have to work in the morning.”
He glanced her way, hoping she understood. Maybe he should sleep over? She gave him a slight shake of her head.
His dad had wandered off in the direction of their bedroom, which was at the back of the small house.
“Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice as they headed toward the front door.
“How often does this happen?” They hadn’t really had the frank conversation they needed to. She was uncomfortable, he knew, and truth was, so was he. But avoiding it any longer wasn’t possible.
Buck gave an annoyed snuffle, but moved to the window facing the park, getting nose prints all over it.
As he came around the car, Joe knew the man was his father. It was a warm night so at least he didn’t have to worry about the cool temps and his dad out there in his pajamas.
Carl looked up at Joe’s approach, but there wasn’t much to it. Blank and a little sad.
“Hey, Dad.” Joe lifted a hand casually. He took up the swing on his dad’s other side. “Want a ride home?”
His father used a bare toe to push himself back and forth just a little. His expression, when he finally looked to Joe, was confused. His heart ached for a moment.
A wave of helplessness washed through Joe. This was way more than he was equipped to handle. There was something so wrong here. How the f**k was he going to make this better?
His dad’s eyes cleared a little, and he looked around and back to Joe. “Hey, Joseph. What are you doing out so late?”
“I could ask you the same.” He tried to keep his tone upbeat. “I’m looking for you. Mom’s worried. You’ve been gone for a while now. How about we go back and get her to make us some tea?”
His dad stood when he did, following along, a little lost. Growing up, Joe’s dad had always seemed so big. But in his bare feet with his pajamas and his thinning hair in disarray, he felt smaller. A shell, and Joe had to swallow back all that emotion. He needed to focus, to get his dad home safely. Then he could deal with the rest.
“You’ll have to share the front with Buck.”
His dad grinned at the dog. “Spoilt.”
Joe laughed. “So much.”
Carl scratched the dog’s ears as Buck rested his head on his thigh.
Joe didn’t know what to say. Or to do. He felt like he should admonish his dad for running off the way he had. He could have been hurt. But one look at the confusion on his father’s face and he knew it wouldn’t be heard. Maybe not even understood.
He didn’t know what to do about any of this stuff.
The drive back to his parents’ place was quiet. The streets were pretty empty. Thank goodness for Buck, who seemed to calm his dad down just by being there.
He pulled up at the curb and they got out, Buck hopping down and trotting next to Joe. His mother opened the screen door and took his father in.
She looked…old. Joe realized his dad wasn’t the only one who appeared smaller and more fragile. Coming back to Petal was more than taking them to the grocery store and watching over his dad’s uneven moods. This was so much more.
“I was worried about you.” She reached out, tentative, to touch his dad’s arm.
“A man needs a walk every once in a while.” His dad was gruff, but there was a lot of emotion there, just beneath the surface.
Standing there, unsure of what to do next, Joe noted the front entry was full of boxes and garbage bags.
“What’s all this?” his father asked.
“Your stuff. I pulled it back in. I’ll call first thing tomorrow and tell them not to come collect it.” His mother must have been planning to donate it to the charity shop in town.
Carl looked at it, opened a few boxes. Junk. Christ, it was boxes of stuff Joe knew damned well his father hadn’t used in years, or had more updated versions of.
His dad turned his attention to Joe. “Your blasted mother is throwing my life away.”
Her mouth hardened. “I don’t hardly think so, Carl. The shed is going to catch fire. Or rats. It’s full to the rafters out there. You don’t need any of this. Everything you use is in the garage. You know I didn’t touch any of that stuff.”
Joe noted how worn thin his mother appeared. He wished he knew how to help them both. But he didn’t. This little moment between the two wasn’t the issue. He understood enough to get that.
The problem was huge and he was one person.
One problem at a time. That was the one way he could see to get through this. He needed to draw on his training and simply deal with one thing. And then the next. And the next. It was the only strategy he could imagine that could solve what seemed pretty insurmountable.
“How about some tea? Maybe a little something sweet to go with it?”
His mother sent him a grateful look. “I think I can do that. Come on through. I’ve got some leftover roast beef for Buck. He should get a treat if everyone else does.”
He had tea at the dinner table with his parents. His mother moved around the room, pretty much the same way she had his entire life. The tabletop was smooth from use, from plates moving across the surface for decades. It was comforting here. Even his father had calmed a great deal. The confusion he’d been wearing on his features had faded, easing the panic that had seized Joe’s heart.
Buck was dozing in a far corner, on the cool linoleum, sprawled to get the full benefit on his belly.
They sat for a while in sort of companionable silence. Joe didn’t quite know what to do next so he let his mother lead.
Finally she patted his hand. “You should get on home. I know you have to work in the morning.”
He glanced her way, hoping she understood. Maybe he should sleep over? She gave him a slight shake of her head.
His dad had wandered off in the direction of their bedroom, which was at the back of the small house.
“Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice as they headed toward the front door.
“How often does this happen?” They hadn’t really had the frank conversation they needed to. She was uncomfortable, he knew, and truth was, so was he. But avoiding it any longer wasn’t possible.
