Page 112 of Nothing But It All
Jack’s face turns white. “What did you say?”
“Where’s Pops? He’s not home.”
He starts toward the door. “I’ll be back, Lo.”
Okay . . .
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
JACK
This fucking day can just be over,” I mutter, marching to my dad’s cabin.
His truck is gone, but that’s not wholly unusual. He’s been known to loan it out in exchange for firewood and baked goods. He likes to portray this as him getting one over on everyone else. In reality, he likes being nice. He just doesn’t want that label.
I take the steps two at a time and rap my knuckle against the door. As expected, no one answers. So I walk on in and call for him.
“Dad?” I yell, wandering through the rooms. “Are you here?”
My voice echoes through the hallway, but there’s no response.
A pit of bile sloshes in my gut as I clear each room like I’m some kind of private investigator.
Living room.
Kitchen.
Hallway.
Guest bedroom.
Bathroom.
Laundry cove.
Main bedroom.
Main bathroom.
A chill spirals down my spine as I make my way back up the hall.
There are any number of reasons why my dad isn’t answering, and he sure as hell isn’t required to tell me where he’s going. He’s a hardheaded old fucker with a teenage rebellious streak. If I told him to tell me if he was leaving, he’d leave and explicitly not tell me because I’d asked him to.
I sort through the table by his recliner for any indication of his whereabouts. There’s a half-smoked cigar in an ashtray. A crossword puzzle. The remote to the TV sits next to a box of tissues with a melted butterscotch candy on top.
“Where are you, Pops?” I ask, gazing across the room for a clue.
I suppress a wave of nausea and fight against a streak of panic.
There’s nothing to panic about. This is my dad. He’s probably at the Cupboard with Mrs. Shaw.
But even as I think it, I don’t quite believe it.
“I had some tests done last week. Got a knot on my liver. Doctor didn’t like the look of it, so he did a little biopsy.”
I take a deep breath, calming myself. He’s fine. He’s ...
“But I’m gonna have to die sooner or later. And we don’t really get to plan our exit strategy, do we?”
