The last stone of Jonathan’s wall of denial crumbled when Dad announced that a hospice nurse was coming over to meet with them.
“She’ll be here between noon and two o’clock. Do you mind bringing me my electric razor? I’d like to shave before she gets here.”
Jonathan didn’t want to talk to a hospice nurse but he couldn’t justify a two hour trip to the grocery store to avoid it. He forced his mouth into a smile and hoped it didn’t look like a grimace. “You don’t need to shave. The scruffy look is popular now.”
Dad arched his eyebrows.
“Right.” Jonathan fetched the cordless razor he and Franklin had gotten Dad for Father’s Day before they deployed.
Dad ran it over his hollow cheeks. “I had no idea you were so fashion conscious.”
“I’m not fashion conscious.” Jonathan scratched the week old stubble on his chin. “Just lazy.”
The doorbell chimed as Jonathan was putting Dad’s razor away. The nurse was early. His stomach clenched when he opened the door and found Carrie freaking Huffman on his front porch.
“What are you doing here?” The last time Jonathan saw Carrie was when she’d come to visit him at the VA hospital in Denver. She’d also introduced him to her dirtbag boyfriend that she’d moved in with while Jonathan was deployed.
She tapped her name tag. Carrie Huffman, R.N. “When your dad’s request for Hospice care came in, I volunteered to take his case.”
“Why?” Jonathan didn’t mean to snap at her. He’d gotten over her a long time ago, but he still resented the way she ended things.
She reached towards his face but Jonathan recoiled before she touched him. She dropped her hand. “I always liked your father.”
“He always liked you, too.” Jonathan took a deep breath then stepped aside and held the door open for her. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.”
“Carrie!” Dad shuffled into the family room and extended his hand.
Carrie ignored the gesture and wrapped her arms around Dad in a quick, gentle hug. She’d always been affectionate. “Hey, Mr. McKnight.”
Dad patted her back. “Call me Charles, please.”
“Why don’t we go sit down?” Jonathan didn’t want to keep Dad on his feet any longer than necessary. He tired so easily.
Dad sank into the recliner. Jonathan waited until Carrie sat on the love seat then flopped onto the sofa across from her.
Carrie rolled her eyes then gave him her ‘are you serious’ look.
Jonathan ignored it. “So…you’re a nurse? I thought you wanted to go to medical school.”
“Nursing was a better fit.” She smiled at Dad. “And I love what I do.”
“You like watching people die?”
“Jonathan!” Dad scowled at him.
Carrie answered Jonathan’s retort with another smile. “I like helping people.”
Jonathan gritted his teeth. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”
Carrie leaned forward. “It’s okay. This is a difficult time for both of you.”
She was right about that and Jonathan was tempted to tell her that her presence was only making it harder, but if Dad wanted Carrie to be his nurse, Jonathan wasn’t going to interfere.
Carrie handed them a couple of brochures and talked a little about hospice care. But when she asked Dad if he had an ‘end of life’ plan, Jonathan went outside and sat on the porch swing. The chains creaked as he slowly rocked back and forth. He let his thoughts drift to River. What was she doing right now? Riding Sugar? Practicing archery? Fletching arrows? Was she thinking about him? Grieving his loss? He ran his hand through his hair. He wished there was some way to get a message to her—just to let her know he was alive.
“Hey.” Carrie wrapped her hand around the chain, interrupting the swing’s rhythm and Jonathan’s thoughts. “Mind if I join you?”
“Do you want me to be honest or polite?”
“How about both?” Carrie sat down beside him, but didn’t touch him.
Jonathan scooted over anyway, putting more distance between them.
Carrie sighed. “I wanted to apologize for the way I broke up with you.”
“You didn’t break up with me. That would have required a phone call or an email. Hell, even a text message would have worked.” She’d changed her Facebook status from ‘in a relationship’ to ‘single’ three months after he deployed to Afghanistan.
“I know it’s no excuse, but I was young and inexperienced. You were my first boyfriend.”
“It sucked at the time but doesn’t matter anymore. I’m over it. Have been for awhile.”
“Are you with someone?”
Telling Carrie about River would create more questions than it answered. Jonathan didn’t want to risk letting anything slip about New Eden. “I assume you’re going to be around quite a bit the next few months. Do us all a favor and keep this professional.”
Carrie’s quick intake of breath wasn’t quite a gasp, but her noisy exhalation was definitely a sigh. “Whatever you want, Jonathan.”
He swallowed around the ever-present lump in his throat. “I want to do everything in my power to make this easier for Dad. Tell me how to do that.”
Carrie had been a lousy girlfriend, but she was an excellent nurse. She gave Jonathan a lot of information in a short amount of time then wrote something on the back of her business card before handing it to him. “We usually tell people to call the hospice number if they have any questions or concerns, but feel free to call me directly anytime, day or night.”
Jonathan took the card and flipped it over. She still had the same phone number she’d had in high school. “Thanks.”
“Walk me to my car. I have something for Charles.” She opened the back driver’s side door then pulled a six-pack of little cans out of a cloth grocery bag and handed it to Jonathan.
He turned it around to read the label. “Ensure?”
“It’s a liquid meal-replacement.” Carrie got behind the wheel. “Encourage him to drink it, but don’t nag him about it if he doesn’t want it.”
“Thanks.”
“If I don’t hear from you or Charles before next week, I’ll see you then.”
Jonathan watched her drive away then checked on Dad—who was asleep in his recliner. He took the Ensure into the kitchen, pinned the six-pack against his side with his elbow then pulled the cans out of the plastic rings. He jammed a straw into one and took it to Dad. He nudged his shoulder with the can.
Dad blinked in obvious confusion then smiled. “I must have drifted off.”
“Sorry to wake you, but you haven’t had anything to eat in over four hours. Carrie said you should drink this.”
Dad played with the straw, pulling it in and out of the can. “I couldn’t help noticing you still harbor a little animosity towards Carrie. If seeing her on a regular basis makes you uncomfortable, I’ll request a different nurse.”
“Don’t change nurses unless you want to. The awkward part’s over. ”
“I know she hurt you.”
“That’s ancient history.” Jonathan guided the can of Ensure toward Dad’s face. “And if she hadn’t dumped me, I wouldn’t have been a free man when I met River.”
Dad took a tiny sip. “About that…”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not leaving until this is over.”
“What if this stubborn body of mine hangs on until autumn?”
“I hope it does.”
“I don’t want you to get caught in another blizzard.”
“It’s only April. The pass isn’t open yet.”
“You’ve barely left the house in two months. You need to stay in shape to survive in the wilderness. Run. Lift weights. Something.”
“And you need to stop worrying about me.” Jonathan stared at the canned supplement, silently begging Dad to take another sip.
“I can’t.” Dad set the can of Ensure on the end table then sank even deeper into his recliner. “It’s what parents do.”
Jonathan extended his hand. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”
Dad shook his head. “Let’s go for a drive.”
“Are you sure you’re not too tired?”
“I’ve got all of eternity to rest.”
~***~
Jonathan’s stomach clenched when Dad told him to turn onto McWethy Drive. “I don’t want to go to the cemetery.”
“I want to visit Frankie’s grave.”
Jonathan didn’t want to do that either. He hadn’t set foot inside the cemetery since Franklin’s funeral, but how could he refuse?
He wrapped his arm around Dad’s waist and took most of his weight. The walk from the parking lot to Franklin’s grave wasn’t far, but it was a challenge for Dad. Jonathan could have easily carried him, but cancer had already stolen so much. Jonathan didn’t want to further humiliate him.
The cemetery looked different. Franklin’s funeral had been in the summer. The gaping hole of his grave had stood in stark contrast to the green grass.
Spring in Leadville wasn’t much different from winter. It had been dry and sunny for the past several days so a few patches of dormant, brown grass dotted the ground like stepping stones. The newest headstone in the McKnight section rose several feet above the others.
Sure enough, the shiny black monstrosity was Franklin’s. His senior picture was etched into the stone. Franklin hated that photo. But Mom loved it.
Dad leaned against Franklin’s headstone then pulled a dead weed out of the frozen ground. “Hello, son.”
Jonathan’s already tight chest squeezed his heart like a vice. He patted Dad’s shoulder then nodded at a bench about fifteen feet away. “I’ll wait over there until you’re ready to go.”
“No. You stay.” Dad pushed off against Franklin’s headstone. He gave it a loving pat then stood up. “I’m a little tired after that hike. I’ll rest while you visit your brother.”
“My brother isn’t here.”
“I know.” Dad smiled then squinted against the sun as he tilted his head back. “But he might be listening.”
Jonathan slammed his mouth shut before he could say anything else he’d regret. But the idea of ‘talking’ to a mound of dirt or a headstone was ridiculous. He wished with all his heart he could believe that Franklin was hanging out in the spirit world, keeping an eye on everyone. Jonathan watched until Dad sat on the bench and pulled his scriptures out of his inside coat pocket.
Jonathan leaned his hip against Franklin’s massive headstone. “We could be here a while.”
Jonathan could almost hear Franklin’s voice, ragging on him to cut Dad a little slack. He ran a finger over the inscription Beloved Son and Brother. Jonathan studied the etched image a little closer. Several smaller vignettes anchored the huge portrait. There were several images of Frankie and Jonathan together. There was even one showing off Franklin’s last martial arts trophy.
But there was no mention of his service to his country. No Army insignia. No flag. Nothing but a damn dove.
Joining the army right out of high school had been Jonathan’s idea, not Franklin’s. But they’d both served with pride. “They should have used the photo Dad took right before we shipped out. You looked like such a badass in your uniform, all serious.”
Jonathan snorted when he realized he was talking to Franklin. But the vice around his heart loosened. Maybe Dad was right. Even if Franklin couldn’t hear him, it felt good to talk to him. Franklin ignored half the things Jonathan said when he was alive anyway. He bumped the stone with the back of his fist. “Miss you, bro.”