Page 101 of Edge of Unbroken

I don’t get back into the house until well after dark, having worked on Miranda’s truck for hours. My grandmother is on the phone when I walk in.

“Is that Randi on the phone?” I ask my grandfather. He’s sitting in the living room with Martin, a stack of papers in front of them.

“Your dad,” my grandfather says warmly.

“Oh.”

“She’s in there telling him all about the day you had,” Martin says, a caring look in his eyes.

“Yeah, I figured,” I sigh. “How long has she been talking to him? I don’t want to miss Randi’s call.”

“About fifteen minutes,” my grandfather says, his reading glasses low on his nose as he studies me over the rim. “Ran, why don’t you sit down and eat your dinner. Morai has been keeping it warm in the oven.”

I nod and walk into the kitchen, feeling my grandmother’s eyes on me as I move about and as she chats with my dad.

“Hey Dad!” I call loudly.

“Your dad says hi,” my grandmother says with a warm laugh. “He looks okay, Frankie,” she tells my dad over the phone as I open the oven and pull out a plate covered with aluminum foil. “Yes, I’ll let him know,” she says while I uncover the food, happily discovering that my grandmother made turkey meatballs, which has always been one of my favorite meals. That and Irish stew.

“Okay, Frankie, I will. I love you. Bye,” she says and ends the call with my dad.

“Did you freak him out?” I ask, shoving an entire meatball into my mouth as I stand. I lean back against the kitchen counter, the plate in my right hand.

“I just let him know what happened today. It’s my duty to keep your dad informed,” she says, then pats my cheek.

“Uh-huh,” I mumble, chewing.

“He’s just worried about you, baby boy. We all are. Are you doing okay?”

“Today sucked, Morai,” I tell her honestly.

She narrows her eyes at me, then nods. “Yes, I believe that,” she says. “Go, sit down and eat your dinner.”

I take my plate into the dining room where I sit and begin scarfing down my lukewarm food.

“Your dad wanted me to tell you to bring up what happened today with your therapist during your session next week,” my grandmother says from the kitchen.

“Roger that. I’ll pour my heart out to her,” I say, positively devouring those damn meatballs.

My grandmother pokes her head into the dining room. “I can’t tell if you’re telling the truth, baby boy.”

“I always tell the truth, Morai,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Which is, of course, a complete lie.” She laughs, then picks up the phone as it starts to ring. “Soult Ranch,” my grandmother answers. “Hi Randi.”

I put down my fork and get up from the table to walk into the kitchen. “How is your dad?” she asks Miranda, then falls silent. “I’m glad to hear that,” my grandmother says after a minute, then looks at me. “Are you ready for Ronan to come get you, then? Okay, he’ll be on his way shortly.” My grandmother nods at me, relaying Miranda’s response.

***

I collect Miranda from the small hospital in town roughly an hour later, meeting her at the reception desk. She looks worn out and tired, her light-brown hair pulled up into a messy bun. She hugs me tightly before I take her hand and lead her out to my truck, letting her climb into the passenger seat before I shut the door behind her.

“How’s your dad?” I ask when I pull out of the parking lot and onto the empty road.

“He’ll be okay,” she says. “Until the next time, or the time after that, or the time after that, until he won’t be.”

I reach across the center console and take her hand into mine. “I’m sorry, Randi.”

“I want so badly to save him,” she says with a whimper. “It feels like… like I couldn’t save my mom, so…”

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