Page 46 of To Belong Together
She rallied. “Okay. Well, you did warn me about the brakes. Good thing you brought it here. We can have a look.”
Dad nodded, uncertain and troubled.
Her phone went off.
Mom.
Panicking, probably.
She answered. “He’s here.”
“Oh, thank God.” Mom exhaled forcefully. “I was in the shower. He seemed content.”
A guilt trip would do Mom no more good than it’d done Dad.
“It’s okay. He overshot the shop’s driveway, but otherwise, no harm done. I’ll check the alignment before I return the car, but I’ll drive him to you now.” As she hung up, her throat ached like it might if she’d swallowed a box of screws.
Dad stood beside her, surveying the car as if it’d parked itself half on the curb.
“I’ll drive you home.” She guided him to her own car.
From the driver’s seat, she texted Uncle Nick, asking him to move Dad’s vehicle. Then, she drove, fighting tears while Dad watched out the window.
She pulled into her parents’ driveway and went to help Dad from the passenger seat.
He swished his hand to shoo her away. “I’m not an invalid.” He planted both feet on the cement and rose, clutching the frame for support.
When they turned for the house, Mom stood in the doorway, one hand holding the door, the other braced against the house. Ashen, she watched them advance until Dad made the step onto the stoop. She rushed forward to help, but he waved her off and ambled inside alone.
Mom stared after him.
Erin crossed her arms, her throat still raw. “How bad is he, Mom?”
“This is a first.” Still turned away, Mom lowered her face. The damp ends of her hair brushed against the collar of her royal blue sweater. Always with the bright colors.
“You need to start hiding your keys.”
Mom nodded without energy.
“They make tracking chips that can go in his shoes or in a bracelet. Something so we can locate him in case he slips by again.”
“I’ll get him something.” She turned with movements as slow as Dad’s and let herself inside.
The door eased shut with one click and then another—the lock sliding into place.
Mom didn’t mean to shut her out. Erin knew that. But Dad had been her connection to Mom for so long, neither she nor her mom knew how to bridge the gap in his absence.
Erin got back into her car, gut burning, throat on fire, and family going up in smoke.
In theory,John could drive.
The doctor might have been less likely to lift the restriction if he’d known the sense of foreboding that thrummed in John’s chest as he clutched the keys and eyed his sports car.
The headaches came and went with less intensity. His casted arm itched and ached, but the throbbing pain had subsided. His face wasn’t swollen anymore. The bruises were more yellow than purple.
Until he’d approached his car, he’d felt more like himself.
If Erin agreed to car shopping, he’d have to drive with her along, so the sooner he put this anxiety behind him, the better.
