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“What can I do for you, Uncle Joe?” he asked, taking his seat again.
Joe sighed. “Here’s the thing, Lucas. Bryce...well, he’s just not really grown up yet, you know what I mean?”
He nodded, his hand on his uncle’s. Joe’s arm looked odd, courtesy of the fistula he needed for dialysis.
“I’d like to leave this world knowing he had a plan, at least. I don’t want him—” Joe glanced at the closed door and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I don’t want her to have her hooks in him forever. You know what I mean?”
“I do.”
“So maybe you could hang around for...well, till the day comes. I know he’s gonna take this hard.” Joe’s eyes filled with tears.
Yes. Last night, Bryce had acknowledged that his dad was sick, but he also talked about how much better Joe was looking these days. Dialysis was amazing! And besides, a kidney would come along any minute.
The fact that Joe wasn’t on the organ registry—and indeed, wasn’t eligible for a transplant, thanks to the tumor in his lung—was not something Bryce would admit.
“I’ll stay however long you need,” Lucas said. He owed it to Joe, after all.
“You can get off work that long?”
“Yep. I’m leaving the company, remember?”
“Right, right.” Joe paused. “Where will you stay when you’re here?”
“I’m at the Black Swan right now,” he said. “Just called the Realtor about a short-term rental.”
“You’re welcome to stay here,” Joe offered, but they both knew that he wasn’t. Didi would hate having him here, and if Didi wasn’t happy, no one was allowed to be happy.
“That’s okay.”
“So you think you could help Bryce? Maybe help him find work? He hasn’t ever had a job he really loved, aside from the dog shelter stuff.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Just having you here is going to be great. He’s always worshipped you. Always wanted to do what you did, whatever that might’ve been.”
Lucas nodded. That was certainly true; from baseball cards to a paper route, if Lucas had it, Bryce wanted it. And Didi made sure he got it.
“There’s another thing I need you to help me with,” Joe whispered, and Lucas felt a flash of anger that the man had to whisper in his own home.
“What’s that?” he asked, adjusting Joe’s blanket. It was meat-locker cold in here. Another thing he remembered too well.
Joe glanced at the door, then picked up a notepad and pen. Wrote something down and passed it to Lucas.
I want a divorce before I die.
Lucas looked at his uncle. Back at the notepad. Back to his uncle. “Well, holy shit, unc,” he said, then grinned. “I’ll get right on that.”
“Thanks, Lucas.” Joe smiled, but his eyes closed. “I’m glad you’re here,” Joe said, his voice fading into sleep. Then his eyes opened. “Maybe you can see some old friends while you’re here.” He winked, the ghost of his old self, then fell asleep, just like that.
CHAPTER SIX
“OH. COLLEEN. IT’Syou.” Carol Robinson, one of the local Realtors, gave Colleen a jaundiced stare. “Fine, come in. I’m not showing you around, though. I know you won’t be buying.”
“Lovely to see you, too, Carol.” Piña colada, very old-school, Carol was. “Bursitis flaring up again?”
“No. I just don’t want to waste my time. Hi, Jeanette, how are you?”
Colleen’s mother pulled her shirt away from her chest. “It’s so hot in here, Carol! How do you stand it?”
