Chapter Seventy-Nine

 

Al was watching the end of the Washington Nationals when Seth came out of the john and he tried to mumble something about Blanche being right back and not to let on she was up to something. He shimmied up to standing position with his canes to go to the telephone in the bedroom and call 911. He wasn’t going to wait a minute more.

He stepped past the easy chair, and the condo door sounded. He and Seth exchanged a look and the kid shrugged. Al glanced at the phone on the end table. It was the one with the cord. Another knock sounded on the door.

“Grand central station around here tonight,” he muttered on his way to the door. He popped the door open thinking it was someone in the condo since the front entry buzzer hadn’t sounded.

It was his daughter. “Hi, honey.” He knew his face wasn’t showing delight.

“Dad, sorry it’s so late. Don’t be mad.” She squeezed past him into the living room then turned.

“Jimmy and I were just driving back from his softball game and thought we’d bring you some ice cream and check on you.” She put her hand on Jimmy’s 12-year-old shoulder and held up a bag with ice cream. “Someone in the building was going out and let me in, but Dad, the elevator’s out in the building. You cannot stay here. It’s dangerous with your legs, you wouldn’t be able to get out if something happened. You gotta pack a bag and come to my house.”

Al pointed over at Seth. “Got Blanche’s grandson here right now. You know?” He licked his lips and eyeballed the phone across the room again. His daughter would move him out permanently if she thought he was involved in police business. “I’m fine. The uh, elevator thing is just ’til morning.” He knew he was a terrible liar but an assessment would have her putting up a for sale sign on his place.

“Dad!”

“I’m fine.”

Susan crossed her arms on her chest. “You’re staying at our house tonight. Go pack your stuff before the ice cream melts.”

“I gotta wait for Blanche to come get Seth.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Davison. I can go on up to Gran’s.”

“You don’t have the keys Mister and uh, you had some trouble alone, I hear.”

“She told you?!”

Al looked at his daughter and mouthed. “Alcohol.” So his daughter would get it, but a little too loud.

His grandson said, “Alcohol?”

“Okay, okay. Dad, we’ll wait for Blanche to pick up Seth and then we’ll go. Pack your stuff, and we’ll have some ice cream.”

She headed for the kitchen and he headed for the bedroom as fast as he could go.

“Dad! Where did all this ice cream come from? Are you not eating properly?”

He lifted his hat and kept moving toward the bedroom. Old age was good when you wanted to pretend you didn’t hear things, but could he talk quietly enough for Susan not to hear?