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“Does he live nearby?”
“Kentucky.”
“It’ll be good to have him home to help out.”
Mr. Chapman nodded. “It will be nice to see him. I haven’t seen my son in over a year, and he’s the only family I have left.”
CHAPTER7
The drive back to Montana had taken an agonizing thirty hours, which with two overnights meant he arrived on the third day, one day after his Dad had been released.
He could’ve flown, but given how he had handled the drive, it had been the right decision not to. For one, he needed his truck since he would be there for six weeks. Dad would never part with his old one, and Troy needed to have that freedom.
Worries about his dad’s health, loss of the house, and how they would pay for everything weighed down on top of everything else he was dealing with too. At one point in the middle of the first day, a truck had swerved and almost hit him head-on. The blinding lights had kept him awake in the motel, where he tossed and turned from one nightmare to the next. Since he hadn’t slept well, the second day was worse. Normally his safe space, the truck’s cabin started to feel overwhelmingly small. He couldn’t stretch his legs or arms or back, his breath coming in short panicky bursts, while a wave of sweat washed over him. He barely made it to a rest stop where he was able to park and duck out into the grassy common area. It had taken him a full thirty minutes to get his bearings and calm down enough to continue. Troy was determined to make it. He had no choice.
Dad didn’t have his cellphone with him, but Troy had spoken with his dad while he had still been in the hospital.
The conversation had haunted him. It had been a relief to hear his old man on the other end of the line. That rugged voice that had always been a stern, salt of the earth rancher, was weakened with age and exhaustion.
“Troy?” his dad had answered, through what sounded like labored breathing.
“Yeah, Dad. It’s me. How are you doing? I’m on my way.”
“Man, I hate to bother you with this. I tried to tell them here at the hospital I wasn’t that bad off.”
“Dad, they told me about the fire.” He hadn’t known what to say at that point. He didn’t know if he should be apologizing for not being there, telling him how much he loved him, or begging him not to go like his mom and Adam had. There were too many emotions to say.
His dad’s voice had cracked, which was a sound Troy had only heard on two other occasions. “The house—I don’t know. It looked bad. It was my fault.”
“No Dad, that’s not important.”
“It was. I know it. Once I heard the smoke alarm, I knew. It’s all my fault. All of the pictures, memories.”
Troy had to pull over and clench his eyes against the welling of tears. Everything remaining of Mom and of Adam was in that house. Not to mention the generations that had come before.
He took a minute to breathe and steady himself before he steadied his dad. “Those are just things, Dad. The important thing is we have each other. That you’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” he said through labored breathing and blowing his nose.
“They said you had a heart attack.”
The pause on the line let him know more than words ever could. “I didn’t want them to tell you. I didn’t feel anything, so it must’ve been minor.”
“I’m in Iowa now, will be there in a couple of days. We’ll sort it out, one thing at a time. Don’t do anything dumb until I get there.”
His dad let out a whisper of a laugh, which led to more heavy breathing. “It’s hard for me to get into trouble with all of these nurses around.”
“Good. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I love ya, Dad.”
“I love you too.”
“Get some rest.”
“Drive safe.”
He hadn’t spoken to his dad since because the next time he had called, the nurse had let him know he was discharged. He had called the cellphone, which went straight to voicemail, meaning it was probably left in the house and destroyed. A thought he chose not to dwell on right now.
Troy wasn’t sure how his dad had gotten home, but he was a survivor, had lived his whole life in that town, and was not afraid to ask for help. That was a good thing since he was so far away.
