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“Whatever you did,” Hank said, “coming so soon after Dad’s troubling talk with The Major, sent his blood pressure—”
“Wait. Troubling talk with The Major? When was this?”
“Early. He went to the hospital before breakfast. Came back to the house to eat before going to work. According to Mom, he was upset.”
Kerra said, “He apologized to me for his mood, said it had been that kind of morning.”
Trapper remembered Glenn being particularly choleric when he’d greeted them at the elevator. “Why would a visit with The Major have upset him? He’s doing so much better.”
“I’m surprised you’ve noticed his improvement,” Hank said. “When did you work in time to see your ailing father, when you’ve been so busy wreaking havoc and making people miserable?”
“Okay, look, I’m maggot shit, and you’re a saint. That’s well known. But bring yourself down to my level long enough for us to talk about Glenn instead of my character flaws.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. He hasn’t been…right…since you showed up.”
Trapper was having a hard time holding down his own temper. He didn’t raise his voice, but he leaned forward and spoke with emphasis. “Don’t lay all this on me, Hank. The night I walked in on Glenn unannounced and told him about Kerra’s upcoming interview with The Major, he was guzzling Jack straight from the bottle. While I may have been an additional aggravation to him this week, I’m not the source of his problem. It was in place before the events of this week.”
Trapper knew he’d struck a nerve when Hank glanced at Kerra, clearly uneasy.
“What’s going on with him, Hank?” Trapper asked.
He hesitated, then, “I don’t know. Something.”
Trapper settled back against the booth, concern over Glenn replacing his anger with Hank. “Maybe he’s sick, real sick, and is keeping it to himself.”
Hank dismissed that. “Mom would know. She monitors everything from his daily baby aspirin to his bowel movements. The past few years he’s had some health issues. High blood pressure, high cholesterol. Normal for a man his age, more nuisances than illnesses. Until today.”
“Pressures of the job getting to him?” Trapper asked. “He told me he needed a man in his CAP department who was younger and smarter than him.”
“He may be resisting aging in general,” Kerra said. “It works on the minds of some people more than on others.”
“All those could be factors,” Hank said. “I think there’s more to it than that, though. But I don’t know. That’s the bottom line: I don’t know.” He struck the tabletop with his blood-stained fist to underscore the words.
“He doesn’t confide in me. Won’t. Whenever I urge him to, he says something cutting like ‘when I need a priest, I’ll turn Catholic.’ Stuff like that. But whatever is bugging him, he didn’t need any more stress.” The last was addressed to Trapper.
“It wasn’t my fault that The Major got shot.”
“No, but have you made a terrible situation better or worse?”
“You’ve already made that point.”
Trapper’s quietly spoken concession took some of the starch out of Hank. He shook his head with frustration. “Trapper, I know you’re fond of Dad. And I don’t believe you do anything with malicious intent. You’re just being you.” He leaned forward. “But you make trouble. You always have. I can’t help but think that the chaos you’ve generated this week is at least partially responsible for Dad being in the ER as we speak.”
It upset Trapper to hear that. It bothered him more than he let on. He couldn’t raise a single defense against a charge that was most probably true, so he said nothing.
Kerra breached the taut silence by asking Hank if he had any idea of how serious Glenn’s condition was.
“The ER nurse who admitted him didn’t think he was having a heart attack because he didn’t have all the symptoms. We’re hoping it was just an acute anxiety attack. Bad enough, certainly scary, but not deadly. Mom’s supposed to call me after they’ve run all the tests.”
The waitress arrived with their order. Hank took one sip from the straw in his soft drink, then scooted to the end of the booth. “I need to go and get things sorted out at the site. Whether or not Dad is hospitalized, I need to be available to him and Mom later today.”
“I’ll check in with you,” Trapper said.
Kerra wrote down her cell number on a paper napkin and passed it to Hank. “Call me if there’s an emergency.”
“Will do.” Hank pocketed the napkin. Then, looking at Trapper, he said, “Sorry about that,” and motioned toward Trapper’s face.
“Like hell you are.”
