Page 38 of Missing Moon

Now I’m crying, too. “I get it, Dad. Took me too long to figure things out, but I understand. I was a hot-headed teenager who thought she knew better than her old man.”

“You did.” He gives a weak laugh. “You got yourself educated. Gave your kids a good life. Better’n I could figure out how to do with you lot.”

“Dad, you did just fine,” says River. “Sometimes a father’s gotta do things that keep them away. I understand.”

“Says the guy working in freakin’ Alaska.” Claytonchuckles.

Dad and River share a knowing, long stare. Two men who both worked jobs that pulled them far away from their family.

“That’s a hike.” Dad exhales, then looks at Mary Lou. “Wasn’t fair to you, most of all.”

My sister looks down. “It’s water under the bridge. I’d do it again. That’s what family does. You had to work. Mom had her… peculiarities. Someone had to take care of the kids. I’m not angry with you.”

Hearing that seems to make Dad feel better. A sense of relief spreads across his face. I don’t think my sister is really resentful toward them as much as she’s generally annoyed at fate for how things went.

I squeeze his hand. “Sorry I didn’t come by to see you guys.”

Dad mutters something not quite intelligible. His facial expression makes me think he’s trying to say something about how it’s his fault, too.

“Is Carolyn going to visit me before I’m out of time?” asks Dad.

Dusk gestures at Mom with both hands like a game show hostess showing off a prize. “She’s right here, Dad.”

Mom continues to stare into the ninth dimension. Dad shakes his head, literally looking right through her.

What in God’s name is going on?

Chapter Sixteen

One Night in Klamath

We stay until visiting hours end.

We catch him up on all our lives. Dad harps on River to ditch the fishing job in Alaska and do whatever he can to be there for his kids. The phrase ‘don’t make the same mistakes I did’ gets thrown around.

The hardest part is hearing him constantly ask where Mom is. I can’t help but wonder if he somehow knows her soul is missing, though he’s about as magical as a brick.

We all go to the Monarch after leaving the hospital for dinner. This way, no one gets stuck having to do cooking or the dishes.

When we finally leave the Monarch, I feel like we’re on the set of a post-apocalyptic movie. There’s no one anywhere. The diner’s the only building in immediate sight with lights on inside. Feels as if this entire town has become collectively afraid of the dark.

And I think I know why.

Once we get back to the house, the brothers end up on the porch sipping beers and talking. The kids mostly take over the television… or at least try to. No cable, no internet, no satellite… so they’re stuck with whatever the antenna brings in. Ruby Grace parks herself half behind the couch, sitting on the floor so she can still read her tablet while it’s plugged in to charge.

Mary Lou and Rick sit on the couch together and look like they’re ready for bed, even though it’s barely nine.

My emotions have more or less settled now. Long, slow illnesses are horrible but at least they give us time to come to terms with the inevitable outcome. The suddenness of death determines who gets the most pain: the person dying, or everyone who cares for them.

If I sit here in the house, my mind is going to wander and dwell on all the bad emotions.

Might as well keep myself occupied with doing some good. With everyone else here reasonably distracted by conversation, television, reading, or sleep, I make my way to the kitchen. A couple cases of bottled water stand in the little nook beside the fridge. Might not be a bad idea for me to take one just in case things get crazy out there. No point taking a cold one out of the fridge, so I pop the plastic on the topmost case and pull a bottle free, then head out the back door.

I’m seconds away from letting my wings out when the screen door squeaks open.

“Where ya going?” asks Tammy.

“Out,” I say.

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