The Chance (Thunder Point #4)(76)

“You still love her?” Ray Anne asked.

“Oh, sure, but it’s not the kind of love you think. It’s friendship. Her kids treat me like some oddball old uncle that shows up sometimes. I give her a lot of credit, you know? She was never angry with me. She was finished, but she wasn’t mad. She just moved on. Got her nursing degree, got married, had a family...the things that were important.”

“And what about you? Did you get to do the things that are important to you?” she asked him.

“Well, this—right now, right here—this is important. It’s one of those things that might be a blessing or could be a handicap. It just doesn’t take that much to make me happy. A night under the stars with my girl, that’s heaven to me.”

“Yet you still run....”

“I still have a phobia about getting pinned down....”

“And a fear of being disappointed?” she asked.

“No, honey. Fear of being a disappointment.”

She snuggled closer. “You’re not a kid anymore, Al. You’re a good man. Stop worrying you can’t live up to expectations and just do what you know is right for you. No one’s going to try to pin you down or turn you into something you don’t aim to be. You’re not that scared and confused young farmer anymore.”

“And if I get a hankering to go off again?”

“Say goodbye,” she said. “Just say, see you later. But you don’t have to run away. You’re welcome here as long as you feel like staying.”

“I’ll admit, Ray—it’s real hard to think of leaving you.”

She smiled. “Good,” she said.

Seventeen

When Eric got home at five o’clock—early for him—three suitcases were packed and lined up inside the front door. There was the rich aroma of his favorite—steak soup. He knew she made it for him despite the fact that it wasn’t a soup day—it was sunny and bright outside, the temperature warm. He went to the kitchen, where he found Senior at the table, the newspaper spread out in front of him. Laine was stirring a pot and he went behind her. Hands around her waist, he kissed her neck and she hummed.

Her father grunted.

“Hello, Paxton,” Eric said. “How was your day?”

“Very busy,” he said.

“We didn’t do a thing,” Laine said softly. “We walked down to the diner for lunch. When Gina brought lunch Senior said he’d just eaten.” She shook her head. “Then we walked along the beach, stopped in at Cooper’s and on the way home we said goodbye at the doctor’s office and sheriff’s office. I did the rest of the packing while Dad napped.”

Over the past few days Laine told him she had seen firsthand how much her father’s dementia was taking over. Mornings were best for him but his periods of confusion were longer and more frequent than she realized and by evening he was a mess of forgetfulness. It was a miracle he’d gotten himself to Oregon all the way from Boston and a triple miracle he’d managed the drive from Portland. If she hadn’t seen his ticket for herself she wouldn’t have been surprised to learn the journey had taken days.

But typical of Alzheimer’s patients, his memory of things that happened long ago, in his childhood, adolescence or early adulthood was crystal clear to the finest detail.

“I can still go with you,” Eric said. “Al and Manny can manage the station. It would be a quick trip for me, but I can help you get him there.”

“We’ll be okay,” she said. “We’ve been inseparable for days. He does whatever I ask of him, even if he does sometimes think I’m my mother. And Scott Grant gave me a mild sedative in case he gets agitated while we’re traveling. I don’t think we’ll need it.”

He sniffed the air. “Steak soup—my favorite.”

“There will be enough left over for you to freeze. I even got a couple of extra sourdough bowls and put them in the freezer.”

“Maybe you could slip him a sedative tonight,” he suggested.

She smiled at him. “He’s been resting very well. We haven’t had nighttime issues. At least not yet. You’re taking this very well.”

He wasn’t, actually. He was terrified that the needs of her family would take her away from him. This dynamic was pretty complicated—after a lifetime of conflict with her father she suddenly learns the old boy adores her. And of course she’d always adored him and longed for his approval. And now Senior needed her. It wasn’t an illusion, he really needed her. Laine wasn’t working full-time at the moment and Pax was committed to a difficult and time-consuming fellowship—there weren’t many options. “I’m going to miss you like mad, but I understand you have to do this.”

“You will stay here, won’t you? In our house?”

“Is that what you want?” he asked for the tenth time.

“I want to see you in my mind when I talk to you. I don’t want to think of you in some hotel room or something. I want to envision you in your station or here, on the deck or in the kitchen.” She frowned a little. “No dirty boots on my sofa.”

“Never,” he said, smiling at her.

“When you tell me about the lightning over the bay, I want to see it in my mind and wish I was with you on the deck or in bed. I don’t want...”