Jones let Willy out at the curb in front of Pacific Heights and drove north. He knew better than to go anywhere near his place or the office. Scopes had given him another day, but he wasn’t about to take the cop at his word. Were the roles reversed, Jones would already be staking out Scopes’ house and waiting for him to come home. Jones checked his watch—he could still make visiting hours.
Laverne smiled when she saw Jones sitting next to his father. “Back again so soon?”
Jones turned his head away from his father and smiled at Laverne. “I was in the neighbourhood.”
Laverne winced at the sight of him. “What happened to your face?”
“Fist fight.”
“Looks like you lost.”
Jones held up his arm. “I was outnumbered.”
Laverne frowned. “That is not funny. You are far too old to be getting in fist fights.”
“Now that’s not funny,” Jones said.
Laverne giggled and Jones smiled. Her laughter was infectious and Jones was glad that it was a sound his father heard often. She checked on his father and made a few notes on the clipboard stored in the sleeve attached to his bed. “Your father is a popular guy. Your brother was just here the other night.”
“Did he stay long?”
“The usual.”
Jones nodded and thanked God for Tom. He had every reason to be distant, but he kept showing up. Twice a week for an hour at a time, like clockwork, Tom sat with his father, fed him, and then read him the day’s sports section. Jones loved his brother and he was grateful for the knowledge that his father’s care was something he would never have to worry about.
When Laverne finished, Jones transferred his father to his wheelchair. He wheeled his father outside and paused on the sidewalk to button his coat. These days, his father always felt cold—years of soft food had tenderized his body. The once hard contractor’s muscles had vanished, and his skin hung like wet laundry on fragile bones that had never been so close to the sun.
“I heard Tom came to see you yesterday.”
Jones stopped his father beside an empty bench and clicked the brakes with the toe of his boot. He heard his father exhale as he sat down beside him on the bench.
“You and me are lucky to have him.”
Jones didn’t hear a breath this time. “I don’t want to hear it. Whatever you think about how Tom lives his life, he is family.”
Jones heard another breath; in his head, it sounded like it came out in a huff. “Listen, Pop, I tried to stay out of things between you two when I was growing up. I like to think it’s because I knew there was no way to make you see that you were wrong. I gave up on changing you and tried instead to keep the peace. I was wrong. You have no idea how lucky we are that Tom didn’t decide to walk out on us. It sure as hell would have been easier for him than staying. And while you might have been happy if he had left us, I can tell you that you wouldn’t have felt that way forever. I’ve seen what the lost do. They carve a deep wound that never scars. You might have hated him, but you would have felt it eventually and then you wouldn’t be able to stop feeling it.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jones caught the movement of his father’s head as it began to drift back. He slipped the crook of his elbow around the old man’s head and eased it back to where it had been.
“I was wrong and I don’t have any more time to spend keeping the peace.”
His father said nothing.
“Listen, I want to talk to you. I might not be around for a while.”
Jones gave the words time to sink in.
“I got into some trouble, and I’m not going to be able to find my way out of it. It wasn’t bad luck, Pop. I earned the trouble. I earned every inch of it.”
Jones didn’t hear a sound from the man sitting next to him.
“It’s hard to understand. I know.”
Jones heard a short breath that might have been an attempt at a laugh.
“Tom is going to take care of you when I can’t. I haven’t talked to him about it, but I know he will. I wanted to tell you myself because you should hear it from me, not anyone else. I also wanted to tell you that you need to get past whatever bullshit you have with Tom because he is going to be all you have and he deserves better than he has ever gotten from you.”
Jones watched his father watching nothing and tried not to read anything into it. He got off the bench and unlocked the wheels. “Why don’t we see if we can sneak a little dessert before dinner.”