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No way Tag was jealous of Dave, was he? “Papa, I think you’re mistaken. I think your love glasses for me have colored your perception of the situation.”
“Is that so? Then am I also imagining the way you look at him?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
ANOTHER SLEEPLESS NIGHT morphed painfully into Sunday morning, and Tag decided to make himself useful again, this time by fixing breakfast with ingredients he found in Abe’s kitchen. Not surprisingly, both the refrigerator and the freezer were well supplied. Stocking up was something most Alaskans were good at, and soon he had bacon sizzling in a skillet while he whisked the eggs for a scramble.
Abe came into the kitchen, looking bright eyed in jeans and a flannel shirt. “Mornin’. Smells delicious.” Stepping over to the coffee maker, he filled a mug.
“Good morning. I hope it’s okay I’m making myself at home here?”
“Cooking a breakfast like this, you can move on in. It’s usually oatmeal around here, I’m afraid.”
“How’s Zeke?” Tag filled the toaster with whole wheat bread, then poured the eggs into the pan and stirred.
“Doing remarkably well.” Abe pulled out a chair and sat. “The healing power of young people never ceases to amaze me. If only I could bottle it.”
“You could save the world.” Taking a slice of bread from the toaster, Tag slathered on a pat of butter.
“Don’t be shy with the butter there, cowboy. Nah, I’m not interested in saving the world. It’s impossible to stop the cycle, you know? My goal is to heal, to ease suffering and make it more pleasant to live in this world. We can all only do as much as we are able. The trick, once you get that helping fever into your blood, is knowing where to draw the line, how much to do, when to stop before draining your own well dry.”
Tag paused, then added another swipe of butter to the toast. A stab of longing sliced through him as he was reminded of the time Ally had called him cowboy. He didn’t feel like that carefree, risk-taking cowboy lately. He felt more like the toast he was buttering.
After spooning eggs onto a platter, he set all the food on the table and sat down across from Abe. “Ally told me you’re a philosopher.”
Abe filled his plate and took a bite of eggs. Nodding appreciatively, he said, “Mmm. Delicious. I appreciate a man who knows how not to overcook eggs. It’s an art form. Can’t let those protein bonds get too hot. I may be something of an amateur philosopher, but I’m a grandfather first, a parent. That line I was referring to earlier? For me, it’s Ally.”
Tag’s bite of eggs turned rubbery. Nervously, he settled in for a conversation that could go many different directions. What had Ally told her grandfather?
Tag gave a casual shrug of one shoulder. “Lucky for me, I have the luxury of not really having a line—not yet, anyway. Meaning I don’t have a family of my own, like a wife or kids.”
Abe chewed slowly, his brown eyes like hot lasers sighted on Tag’s. He swallowed and then took a sip of coffee. In a flat tone nearly identical to Ally’s, he said, “Lucky for you, huh?”
Tag realized how much that made him sound like a player, afraid of commitment. “Well, no, not really. Honestly, I wish I had a line.” I wish I had Ally.
“Hypothetically, if you did have a line, would you be able to not cross it, protect it, cherish it?”
Tag set his fork down and leaned back in his chair. “Okay, Dr. Mowak, I know we don’t know each other very well, or at all, really. But I feel like I know you a little through Ally, and I definitely know how much you mean to her. So, maybe you should just tell me what you’re trying to say here?”
“I’m not trying to say anything. What I am saying is that I don’t appreciate you playing fast and loose with my granddaughter’s heart. Despite the way she acts, she feels very deeply. If a person could be accused of having too much compassion, loving too deeply, that would be my Ally. There’s nothing she wouldn’t do for someone she loves. Probably there’s nothing she wouldn’t do to protect someone she cares about, either, for that matter.”
“Sir, I promise you, it’s not like that.”
