Rusty continued pacing the waiting room hours after Becca was released to Cathy and Devon. She wanted to stay, and he wanted her there, but he knew it was best she went home and rested.
The clock on the wall told him it was just six in the morning. He hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours and he was exhausted, but he couldn’t even think about sleeping right now.
The door at the end of the hall, through which Frank had been taken for some testing, clicked then opened and Rusty stopped in his tracks. “How is he?”
“He made it through the night, which is an excellent sign,” the doctor told him. “Your grandfather’s strong, but definitely a man of advanced years. We were able to clear a blockage in his heart and set his wrist. Also, his lungs seem fine, but this has taken its toll on him. We’ll know more as the day progresses. A nurse will come get you when he’s back in his room.”
“Thank you so much, Doctor.”
The doctor’s phone buzzed and he backed toward the door. “Someone will be out shortly.”
Rusty collapsed into an upholstered armchair and flung his legs out in front of him. A single ray of sunlight shot through the window, so beautiful it eased some of the tension.
After two breaths full of hope, his muscles tightened and he gripped the arm of the chair. Where will we live? He’d have to go out to the house soon and check on the damage. Perhaps insurance would cover enough for him to rebuild.
The nurse popped her head out of the door. “You can come back now.”
He followed her down a corridor to the fourth door on the right. Due to the early hour, the halls were quiet and the smell of fresh Bleach wafted from the sterile floor and walls.
As he approached the bed, the nurse tucked the covers up under his grandfather’s bruised chin. His weathered face looked like he’d been through battle, what with all the scrapes and bruises along his jaw line and forehead. From what Sheriff Mason told him, Becca had to drag him out of the house and roll him down the front steps. Rusty rubbed his forehead, trying to rid it of the thumping pain of regret. He shouldn’t have left them alone at the house.
“Where’s my teeth? I want a steak,” his grandfather mumbled without opening his eyes.
“I can go pick up your new teeth now. I’ll be back quick.” Rusty moved to the door.
“No need for that,” the nurse said softly. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying right now.”
Rusty sighed. “Is he on some pretty good medication?”
The nurse’s brows knitted together. “Didn’t the doctor speak to you?”
“Yes. He said my grandfather hurt his wrist and he had a clogged artery, but besides his already aging condition, he’s fine.”
The nurse picked up the chart at the end of the bed and thumbed through it. “Mr. Miller, I think I better get the doctor for you again.”
“Can’t you just tell me?”
She tapped her pen to her lips and set the chart open on the foot of the bed. “I’ll go get some more ice for your grandfather. I’ll be right back.”
He looked down at the discarded chart and lifted it with shaking hands. Scanning all the numbers and strange symbols, his eyes rested on two words he had suspected but hoped he’d never see. Advanced dementia. Rusty closed the chart, placed it at the end of the bed, before he took his grandfather’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve forced you to go to the doctor before now.”
A glass of water appeared in front of him. “There’s nothing you could’ve done,” the nurse said. “He’s in his eighties. Even with modern medicine, there’s little we could do for him.”
“Still, I can’t believe it’s happening so quickly. I mean, he’s always been on the eccentric side, but all the sudden he’s forgetting things, becoming more aggressive, almost child-like.” Rusty rolled the bill of his cap between his hands and rested his elbows on his knees.
The nurse set a container of water with the straw on the bedside table. “These things just sort of happen. A social worker will be in later to speak to you about your options.”
“Social worker?”
She checked the IV drip then headed for the door. “Yes, Mr. Miller. You’ll need to make a plan for your grandfather’s worsening condition. For his safety, as well as your own.”
“No. I won’t put him in a home. I’ll figure something out.” Rusty turned back to Frank, not allowing her a chance to respond. Looking at his frail body, he couldn’t imagine what he was going to do, but he had to do something. His grandpa was all the family he had left. How could he turn his back on him now?
He pounded his fist against his thigh. “Why now?” Everything he’d dreamed of was within his reach. Dream job. Beautiful and caring wife. Home and family.
Perhaps the town could still help care for Frank. And Becca would be around at night to help with him once they were married. The town had made it plain they all wanted to help, so why couldn’t it still work?
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Rusty released his death grip on his cap and angled himself to see who was at the door.
Sheriff Mason held his hat in his hand, clean-shaven and looking somewhat rested from the evening before. “Hey there. How you holding up?” Rusty sat forward to stand, but Sheriff Mason held out a hand. “No need. You look like you’d fall over if you stood anyway.”
“Any news on what happened? Was it electrical? You know, I should’ve had a professional do that rewiring upstairs. What was I thinking? I could’ve caused both of them to—”
“It wasn’t electrical, so stop beating yourself up. We both know you’re one of the most capable handymen in the county.”
Rusty leaned back and rested his aching head against the cool wall behind him. “Was it the radiator or some kind of appliance malfunction?”
“I don’t have an official report yet.” Sheriff Mason ran a finger down the rim of his hat.
Rusty lifted his head. “But you know how it started, don’t you?”
Sheriff Mason nodded. “There’s some evidence to indicate what happened according to my buddy at the fire department, but it isn’t conclusive.”
Rusty didn’t like the way the sheriff was avoiding his question. Deep inside, his soul told him not to go there, to avoid discovering the truth as long as he could, but his mind wouldn’t let him. “Tell me how it started. I need to know. I just lost everything I own and almost the only family I have left in this world. I have a right to know how it happened.”
The sheriff sighed. “Someone stuffed a lit cigar in between the mattress and box spring in the front bedroom upstairs.”
The room felt like it shifted underneath him and he was thankful he was sitting down. “One little cigar took down my entire home?”
“Not exactly. There was a whiskey bottle turned over on the bed. It saturated the mattress. The combination of the old wooden home, alcohol, and steady ignition source were too much. My buddy estimates it took less than five minutes for it to consume the upper floor.”
Rusty eyed his grandfather, not sure if he should be angry or sad at the sight of him now. “Geesh, he could’ve killed Becca. I’ve told him a million times not to smoke, especially in the house. And he swore he’d given up his whiskey.” Rusty shook his head. “The last time he had a cigar, he fell asleep and it landed in his lap. Luckily, he woke up before he caught fire.” He held his head in his hands. “I should’ve been with him instead of off on some fool errand. What was I thinking? He’s my responsibility, not Becca’s. I should’ve never involved her in all of this. When we started dating, Frank wasn’t this bad. But his mind’s been going quick these last few months. I would’ve never left her if I’d known this was going to happen. I swear I’d never risk her like that.”
“You can’t blame yourself for this. No one could’ve guessed that this would happen.” Jimmy adjusted his utility belt. “Do you have a place to stay tonight? From what I understand, Frank will be here another day or two. Then they’re talking about transferring him to the facility down the street.”
“No, they’re not. He’ll never agree to go.”
Sheriff Mason placed a hand on his shoulder. “Rusty, you don’t have a choice. For his safety, as well as yours and Becca’s, not to mention the rest of Sweetwater County, he’s got to be looked after by a staff of experts. It’s too much for one person.”
“He’s my family.”
“I understand that, but you don’t even have a home to take him to right now. At least let him stay in the home until you can rebuild. Then you can figure out what to do.”
Rusty clutched the bedrail. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Listen, you come stay with Trianna and I tonight. We’d love to have you. Heck Trianna was all excited about having Frank hang with her in the evenings when I had to work late. You’d be welcome company for her. We even have a spare room ready for you.”
“No. Thank you, but I’ll be fine.”
Sheriff stepped to the window and gazed out for a moment. “You know, you’ve done well. Most men your age would’ve abandoned their grandfather in a home a long time ago. You gave up a lot, and even though he doesn’t realize it right now, he appreciated it. I owe him a lot. We all do. And if he was coherent enough, he’d tell you that we’re family and you should come stay with us.” He swiveled to face Frank, his eyes full of love. “You probably don’t remember, but my parents did mission work when I was growing up, leaving us for long periods of time. Your grandfather took my brother and me in for many months more than once. Trust me, we were a handful, but your grandfather set us straight. He’s a good man. He’d want you to move on with your life.” He placed his hat back on his head and walked out of the room without another word.
Rusty put his head down on the bed and closed his eyes, unsure what else to do.