The Chance (Thunder Point #4)(60)

“Don’t worry about it. Eric’s fine. And we’re not going to rush this. Tell me something, Justin—where’s your dad?”

He shrugged and shook his head. “We don’t know. We don’t care.”

“When was the last time you talked to him?”

“You thinking we can just call him up and he’s going to make this right? Listen, he left because he couldn’t stand sickness. It changed his life too much, he said.”

He couldn’t have said that, Al thought. “And when was that?”

“Over five years ago.”

“He left you here?”

Justin shook his head. “We moved here. My mother needed a flat house with handicap stuff. We’ve been here almost three years.”

“I thought you were from around here....”

“Elmore, way smaller than this, if you can wrap your brain around that. We were in a two-story. That wasn’t working.”

“Okay, back in Elmore, were there friends? Family—even distant family? Neighbors you’ve known awhile? Anyone we could reach out to now?”

“Look,” Justin said impatiently. “When people get sick, people are nice, all right? But they don’t want to have to be nice and help out forever. It gets old. My mom needs a lot. I mean a lot! Twenty-four-seven. And two teenage boys...they need stuff, too. They don’t need as much and I can take care of what they need, but no one’s gonna take ’em on. And they need me and I’m not gonna be around because no foster family takes a legal adult in, gives him free room and board. Are you getting this?”

“Settle down,” Al said. “Everyone gets it—your situation sucks. But your mom needs more help than three teenage boys can supply. And you boys need a life, too. So—you’re not that much trouble? Know what that tells me? This is your father’s responsibility. He doesn’t even have to do anything—just be the responsible party. Pay the rent, maybe. We just have to track him down....”

“He doesn’t want to be tracked down! I don’t want him around, but do you think my mom was gonna let that go? She had me look around, see if I could find him. I couldn’t, all right? What I need is to get to eighteen before my mom gives up. Then I can take over. We’ll be fine.”

Al held his tongue. It was on his mind to say That ship has sailed. If he understood Dr. Grant, no one in this family had any quality of life—not the poor woman who was hanging on when every day of her life from now on was going to be beyond difficult, not the three boys who had spent the last half-dozen years struggling to take care of her and themselves. “Maybe, if we don’t panic, a solution will come to mind,” he said. “For right now, let’s go see your mom, make sure she’s in good hands. I’ll drive you. Bring you home.”

“I can take us over....”

“Let me do this, Justin. Concentrate on your family. I won’t interfere or crowd into the hospital room with you. I’ll just be the driver.”

“You’re supposed to go back to—”

“I’ll call Eric. He said I should take as much time as I want. He also said he’d be glad to help if he can. I know you hate to ask for help, but try to remember it was offered.”

* * *

Justin told Al about his mother’s disease and he was amazingly articulate. She might live a few more years, might not. She’d been diagnosed a long time ago, when Justin was still little. Sometimes she fell and couldn’t get herself up and he’d come home from school and find she’d been lying on the floor for hours. Or their dad would come home and find her in some trouble and it would get him all crazy because he couldn’t stay home from work. But Justin and his brothers had a routine now—Justin was there for her days and when his brothers came home, he went to work. A nurse came at least four days a week to help her with bathing and such and when the nurse was there, Justin could go out, just for a break or for errands.

Al waited in the hospital parking lot while the three boys went upstairs to check on their mother. He was curious about what was happening with her, but the boys needed some space right now. Eric wasn’t the only one who saw himself in Justin. So did Al. In fact, Al hadn’t been that much older than Justin when his life had come apart and everything had changed.

He’d grown up on the farm, had a girlfriend through high school—she was also a farm kid. Her name was Carol and that’s when he was called Mick, short for Michel. They got married at nineteen and lived on his family farm—that was their destiny. They were going to be a farm family and have a slew of kids. Carol could handle all the business and Al could manage the farm. He’d been doing it since he was a kid. Carol got pregnant and had a baby boy—Ethan. And when Ethan was only three months old, he didn’t wake up. Classic crib death—no explanation and no reason to expect it to happen again.

But Al and Carol were completely devastated. Ripped apart. Al felt like he didn’t take a deep breath for a year. His mother was shattered, his father was in so much pain he barely spoke. Carol’s family, which was larger, was in agony as well and they embraced Carol as best they could. She had a lot of support from them through the worst of it.

But Al checked out. He ran.

He was so far from being able to cope, he just made an excuse to get away from the scene of the worst tragedy of his young life. He took a job driving a big rig, a semi, and managed to be gone at least four days a week. He didn’t have any trouble explaining it was a good job, hard to get, and the money would come in handy. While he was gone, Carol had her family to prop her up and she could express her grief to them. Al just wanted to be alone, to lick his wounds, to take an emotional journey to get back to where he was functional. He’d never again be a young man with hope.