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Okay, so maybe he hadn’t blown this or made Josiah uncomfortable with the slipup. “I’ll look online later. God knows I’m not used to this sort of physical labor.”
“I suppose software designers aren’t used to hauling around wheelbarrows full of horse manure.”
“Definitely not. Anyway, how did the day go here?”
“Not bad.” Josiah retreated closer to the couch and crossed his arms, and Michael disliked their new distance. “Elmer ate most of his breakfast oatmeal and some cut fruit. Soup and crackers for lunch, plus his juice. He had a bit of trouble swallowing some of his pills, but he does well taking them with pudding cups.”
“We have pudding cups?”
“I found a pack in the back of the pantry. We can try the sugar-free kind, if you prefer, or buy something with a similar texture he’ll like, such as yogurt.”
“Don’t give me none of that froufrou, nondairy vegan yogurt mess,” Dad said, his eyes barely open, but voice as sharp as ever. “I want plain old shit for a plain old man. Pudding is fine for those damn pills.”
Michael resisted the urge to roll his eyes, curious how long Dad had pretended to be napping. “Fine, I’ll get you more pudding until your swallowing gets better.”
Dad grunted.
“I was referring to regular yogurt,” Josiah said to Dad. “Plain, strawberry, coffee-flavored—there are all kinds.”
Dad stared at Josiah for a few seconds before grunting and grabbing the remote with his left hand. He increased the volume on the storage bin show and seemed to ignore them. Fine with Michael. They’d had a tense time last night, both trying to move forward with their new situation without either admitting to past wrongdoings.
Not that Michael believed he’d done anything wrong in the past, especially not by leaving home and his dad behind. He’d been protecting his own happiness and sanity by getting the hell out of Weston.
“Sounds like we’ll be good with pudding,” Josiah said, just loudly enough to be heard over the television. “I can swing by the general store once I’m off and pick up some more. I’m not sure what prepared options they have, but I know how to make it from a box.”
“You don’t have to do that, I can just—” He stopped before saying he’d just do a home delivery order, because he had no idea if any of the phone app places delivered groceries in Weston. Probably not, and if they did, the fees would be outrageous. Living in a big city for so long had certainly spoiled him with certain things. “I can pay you back for your time and the groceries, of course.”
“It’s fine. Pudding isn’t that expensive. Oh, I found some chicken in the fridge and put it in the oven with a can of cream of mushroom soup. It should be done in about thirty more minutes. Your father should be okay to eat that if you cut the chicken up into small pieces and use the sauce as a gravy.”
Michael sniffed the air and picked up the faintest scents of cooking food. “That sounds great—thank you for prepping it.”
“I’m used to quick and simple oven or slow cooker meals. It’s never a problem.” Josiah’s gaze flickered, as if something bad had raced through his mind and disappeared just as fast. “Um, if there’s nothing else, then I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“You can stay for dinner.” The words slipped out before Michael thought twice, but he didn’t take them back. He enjoyed Josiah’s company and wasn’t looking forward to another dinner with his dad full of small talk and awkward silences.
Josiah’s sweet smile didn’t match his disappointing words. “I can’t. I have a previous engagement. But thank you.”
“Another time?”
“We’ll see.” He turned and gathered up the few things he’d brought with him that morning. “See you tomorrow, Elmer. Don’t give Michael too hard a time tonight, okay? And if either of you have any questions, feel free to call me.”
“Eh, go get some sleep,” Dad replied. “You look like you could use it.”
“Gee, thanks so much.” Josiah smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Take care, Elmer. Michael.”
“Thanks for everything.” Michael held the front door open for Josiah, sad to see him leaving and also grateful for a bit of time to decompress from his own day. If Dad was busy watching TV, maybe Michael could escape upstairs for a long, hot bath to soothe his aching muscles. He watched Josiah ease into his compact car, back out of the driveway, and disappear down the long country road to wherever he lived.
“Don’t let the damned bugs inside,” Dad grumped. “It’s hell to smack ’em with only one good arm.”
“Sorry.” He shut the screen door, noting the chain at the top was coming loose. He’d need to fix that before a strong wind whipped it right out of the frame. “So you and Josiah had an okay first day?”
“He’s a good kid. Smart as a whip. I like him.”
“Great.” Michael turned from the door, grateful for the cool evening breeze filtering in through the open windows. As much as he longed for his fully air-conditioned home in Austin, he could appreciate the fresh air a lot more now. He remembered so many evenings sitting out on the front porch with Mom’s lemonade, watching the occasional car pass on the road and talking about their days.
Michael used to love telling his parents about school and Little League and all the other activities that kept him busy as their ranch failed and their lives fell apart bit by bit. Things that kept him away from the vast acreage Dad had never managed to parcel out and sell, no matter the money offered by developers. Those evenings on the porch, with the sun setting to the left and the moon rising to the right, were precious to him because they’d stopped completely after Mom died.
Maybe one day he and Dad would sit outside on the porch again and talk about their days, but it would be a long time from now. A long, long time.
