Page 87 of Stick By Me

Nope, no intolerance. Just the same old Uncle Tad I’d always known. “We didn’t have time to get him properly outfitted.” I scoffed a laugh, then climbed up into the truck’s toasty warm front seat and twisted around to Leo. “Better?”

He rubbed his palms together. “Yeah, much.” Ducking his head, he gazed out the window. “There’s snow on the ground, too.”

“We’re expecting a little blizzard later tonight, but the plows will have the roads cleared out by morning.” My uncle drove the truck into the line of traffic leaving the airport and tapped the dashboard. “But with this thing, we don’t even need the plows.”

I shook my head with a laugh. “Snow days aren’t real, right Unc?” He’d always said they never had snow days when he was a kid. And he walked in the snow uphill both ways to school. Yeah, right. Maybe I missed being home more than I’d thought I would.

“Hell no. Just some made up bullshit to give teachers and slackers a day off.” He freed a soft snort, turning the corner onto a bare-branched, tree-lined street, with quaint, two-story bungalows, the snow hugging the rooflines and piling up where the lawns should be.

“Interesting theory.” Leo nodded, his gaze rushing over the scene outside the truck.

“My dad’s house isn’t very far from the airport.” I watched my family home come into view, same as the others with a long porch in front and dark green siding. Dad wouldn’t be there. My heart stung. I hadn’t thought of it until now.

“How long has Dad been in the hospital?” I swept my gaze to Uncle Tad. There was so much I didn’t know still.

“He was rushed there by ambulance the night before I called you, so a few days.” As he drove the truck into the long driveway on the side of the house, the snow crunched under the tires. “I’ll come in with you boys for a few minutes and answer any burning questions, but let’s leave the rest for tomorrow.” He parked the truck and turned to me, his wrist resting on the steering wheel. “He goes into surgery at eight AM and we should be there before he goes. I want him to see you before they wheel him back. You got me?”

With my eyes widening, I nodded. Thank God I had Leo here with me. “How long do you think they’ll be working on him?” And when could I finally talk to him?

“I was told it could be as little as three hours or as long as six or more. We’ll just have to wait it out.” He patted my thigh. “Come on, let’s get you boys set up in the house.”

“Yeah.” I snuck a peek at Leo, and he warmed my cheek with his palm for a beat, then climbed out of the truck.

I stepped out, then grabbed my suitcase out of the back of the truck while Leo did the same and we all headed to the front door, holding our suitcases out of the few inches of snow on the ground. Digging into my backpack pocket, I pulled out my keys and unlocked the front door.

Uncle Tad pushed it open and stepped inside, turning on the lights in the hallway, then in the front room. “You know your dad usually puts all the Christmas decorations up the day before you get here. I guess he didn’t have a chance.”

I peered at him. It was like he knew it was going to be weird for me to be here without Dad. He wanted to prepare things for me to make me more comfortable. I set my suitcase at the foot of the stairs. “It’s okay. Thanks.” After sloughing off my jacket, I hung it on the coatrack by the door while Leo did the same.

My uncle shifted in his work boots. “Anyone want something to drink? There’s probably some sodas and water in the fridge?—"

“No, thank you. Let’s just sit down a moment and let me ask a few questions, then you can go back to Dyana and your girls.” How much had they seen of him since this happened? He was all Dad had now, as far as I knew. Dad had never mentioned seeing any women since Mom had passed.

Leo walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. “I’m going to see if I can find some bottled waters. You two talk.” He stalked off.

I ambled with Uncle Tad into the main room and sat down on the modern, leather couch Mom had loved so much. Fuck, this whole house had her all over it. All the furniture was picked out by her, the picture frames on the walls of us as a family, and it was all still where she’d left it. Dad hadn’t changed a thing. An ache swept through my chest. Maybe I’d been too hard on him.

“So, what do you want to know?” Uncle Tad slowly sat down in front of me on the dark brown trunk that doubled as a coffee table.

“When did he start having problems? Didn’t you say he wasalready scheduled for a stent or something?” I studied him and took calming breaths.

Leo entered the room and handed out bottled waters. “I didn’t know if you wanted one, Tad, but I figured it couldn’t hurt.” He twisted off the cap on his and sipped it. “Funny, we’re so used to drinking water all the time in the desert, it’s just a habit for me now.”

“It’s still pretty dry here in the winter.” I drank a few gulps of my water. And being on a plane made me thirsty-as-fuck anyways. “Maybe not as dry as Arizona, but still.” I focused on my uncle. “So?”

Uncle Tad turned the bottle in his hands. “So, he found out about a year ago he had some thinning arteries or whatever the hell you call it.” His gaze snapped to mine. “He had plaque and not the tooth kind.” The corners of his lips twitched.

I couldn’t help but grin. This was serious, but Uncle Tad didn’t know anything about the human body and how it worked. Plumbing and electric lines for houses, framing and anything to do with construction? He was a genius. “Okay so he knew a while back he had issues, and the docs wanted to put in a stent to open up his arteries?” Why the fuck didn’t Dad tell me about this?

“Yep. He was supposed to have it done last September, but he kept saying he didn’t have the time to take off work.” He scoffed. “It was only a God damned week. Guess he’s going to be taking more time off now.” He shook his head.

Leo dropped into the couch next to me and draped an arm around my shoulders. “Does he have good health insurance?”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem. The man has a great job.” Uncle Tad unbuttoned his coat. “He has money saved, too.” He faced me. “You know your mom had life insurance.”

“Yeah, I know.” I winced. It helped keep me in hockey and paid what my scholarship didn’t at school. “Anyways, the only other burning question I have is…why didn’t he call me after I left him the message about the Coyotes’ coach?” I furrowed my brows. “Did he tell you Mom’s friend, Richard Dupont, is now a coach for the Coyotes and gave me a chance at going to their development camp for try outs?”

“Oh, um…” Tad pressed his lips into a thin line. “Yes, he told me. Let’s leave that one for tomorrow, okay?”

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