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In the kitchen, Troy grabbed his usual Perrier and a can of soup, which hardly constituted a great meal, but he decided to class it up with a day old chunk of bread from the bakery and the good butter he kept on the counter so it would stay soft. While the soup warmed, he changed in the bedroom into an old T-shirt from Fort Bragg and some boxers, with a quick glance to make sure the blinds were still closed, since it was well past sundown.
Once everything was heated up and his soup in a bowl, he set his dinner on the coffee table and plunked down on the couch to listen to the narrator tell him what he already knew about Alan Shepard and Buzz Aldrin while he ate. He had always loved history as a kid, but he had taken more of an interest as an adult. Being in the military and seeing things firsthand that would end up in media like this documentary brought a special appreciation for those that came before him. He had read somewhere online that men his age either got really into smoking meat or World War II, and he was decidedly in the second camp.
He ate and finished the program, browsing YouTube’s recommendations for whatever he should watch next, which as usual was on point and freakishly accurate. At first he hadn’t been used to the online streaming world, but the History Channel was mostly about aliens and weird BS these days, and his buddy had recommended a few online channels which he enjoyed.
The countdown to the next video told him this would be on the use of gunpowder in ancient China, which was all fine and good but wasn’t his primary focus, so he opened up his phone and began swiping through tonight’s lineup of women on the newest dating app. Troy had expected the apps to be a waste of money, but sometimes he met some pretty cool people who weren’t looking for anything serious, which worked for him. He had seen enough heartbreak, divorce, and affairs to give Cupid himself strong doubts about love these days. He had no problem with romance, companionship, and a good time, but was not interested in pressure or drama.
Tonight’s lineup was a mix.
The first woman was pretty and had a picture of her son. He was a cute kid, but children needed stability and long-term relationships. Troy respected her for putting it out there and not trying to hide the fact that she was a parent, but he still swiped left with his thumb to move on to the next one.
The second woman had a neck tattoo, which was kinda hot but intimidating at the same time. She liked concerts, bars, and the BDSM club downtown. Not his vibe. Swipe left.
Woman number three posed with a hand on her hip and her head cocked to one side, like most women did these days and always made Troy think of back problems. Pretty face, but her profile mentioned wine with the girlfriends, beach trips, and how family was the most important thing to her. He checked out a few more pictures to discover they all were of her in various wedding parties. Red alert, swipe left.
The fourth lady was a little older and had a nice smile. In every picture was one of what looked like three dogs. He was just about to scroll down to read more of her profile when an incoming call flashed across his screen.
Shit, he never called those other numbers back today either. Might as well add it to the to-do list.
Since it was Goldvein’s area code, he picked up, expecting to be reminded about his car’s nonexistent extended warranty. Since the telemarketers had started to mimic people’s area codes, it made it so much harder to screen calls.
“Hello, is this Troy Chapman?”
Here we go. “This is he.”
“My name is Matthew, and I’m a case manager here at St. Olaf General Hospital. We’ve been trying to reach you.”
Oh no. On instinct, Troy got up and started pacing. He’d had this call before.
“What happened to my dad? Is he okay?”
The calm, matter-of-fact way the case manager spoke did nothing to ease his fears.
“Mr. Chapman, I’m sorry to tell you there was a fire, and your dad was brought in by the paramedics.”
“A fire? This doesn’t make sense. When? What burned?”
“It was a house fire late last night.”
Troy stopped dead. The house. The ranch. His dad. Memories of his mom, Adam, and Dad all started running through his head at a mile a minute. Childhood memories, sounds, smells, Mom’s kitchen, Dad’s chair, Adam’s room left just like it was. His dad. Oh God, that house was his life. What would happen now?
The case manager was still speaking, but Troy couldn’t follow.
“I’m sorry, could you please repeat that? What about the house?”
“Of course. We’re waiting on the building inspector to come and assess the damage of the house, but until then we need to talk about a care plan for your father.”
“Is he okay? What happened? Where is he now?”
“He is in stable condition right now. He was found on the floor of the bedroom, and the firefighters were able to get him out where the paramedics treated him for smoke inhalation. When he got here, he was very weak with an erratic pulse, and the ECG showed he suffered from an apparent heart attack.”
Troy slowly sank down into the chair.
“But he’s stable. That’s good, right?” His voice didn’t sound like his own. Instead, it was monotone and flat, like a person who was going through the motions of his own life while he watched from a distance.
“He is stable, but very weak. We are making arrangements for his care plan after he leaves the hospital and wanted to reach out as you are next of kin. Are you able to make yourself available to assist him once he leaves the hospital?”
“Assist him?”
