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“Pulled-pork tacos? Yum!”
“We’re this way,” Dean said.
He hit the unlock button for his truck and loaded Dilbert into the back. When he climbed in, Casey was already belted and ready to go.
“This is a nice truck.” Casey ran his hand over the dash admiringly.
“It’s fun, too. I take it up to the mountains to fish and snowboard when I can.” Dean backed out of his parking space and turned onto the street toward the freeway.
“I’ve never been snowboarding . . . or fishing.”
“We’ll all have to go sometime. Do you think your sister would like to go?” Dean asked.
“I doubt she’d fish. She might try snowboarding, but she’s kind of a klutz.”
Dean chuckled as he took the Raley Boulevard exit and made a left. “You don’t say?”
“Sure, she can trip standing still,” he said.
“I’m not going to repeat that, for your safety and mine,” Dean said.
“Oh, she knows. Brings it up constantly.”
As Dean pulled down Casey’s street and slowed to a crawl in front of his house, the kid’s eyes bugged out.
“Wow, it looks so different.”
“Better, right? Think you can help your sister keep up with the yard?” Dean phrased it as a question, hoping that Casey wouldn’t take it as criticism.
Casey didn’t seem to, eyeing the yard thoughtfully. “What will I need to keep it up?”
“Some gloves, a lawn mower, and a weed whacker,” Dean said.
“Okay.”
Dean parked the truck in the driveway and killed the engine. “You don’t have any of those things, do you?”
“We have a lawn mower in the back shed, but I don’t think it runs. Our weed whacker disappeared along with some tools years ago, and we just figured Dad took them.”
“Do you ever miss him?” Dean asked.
Casey’s face shuttered. “Wasn’t much to miss. He was either high or off trying to score.” Casey cleared his throat. “He’s back, you know?”
Dean was surprised that Violet hadn’t said anything. “When? Have you seen him?”
“Not yet. Violet said he wants to see me, though.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know. On one hand, I want to give him a chance because he’s my dad, but all I remember of him was this scary guy who used to yell at us to be quiet. And I hardly remember my mom. The only real parent I’ve ever had is Violet.”
Dean debated whether or not he should ask Violet about her dad but decided that if she wanted to tell him, she would in her own time. “You should tell her that.”
“Tell her what?” Casey asked.
“That you love her and she’s done a good job. Because I’ve got to be honest, I don’t think your sister thinks very highly of herself. I think she worries you’d have been better off with a foster family.”
Casey said nothing as he stared mutinously out the window. Finally, he muttered quietly, “That’s stupid.”
