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“No, I’m fine to work tomorrow,” Michael said. “Honestly, I think I need the distraction, and I know Josiah likes to keep a consistent schedule.”
“I take it that’s going well?” Brand asked. “Josiah and your father?”
“Yes, they seem to get along great. Dad has no complaints. He’s got a checkup on Monday, so we’ll see what his progress is, but Josiah is consistent with his physical therapy.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Michael tried to put some cash down to tip their waitress, but Brand waved him off with a friendly smile. It had been a long damned time, almost too long, since Michael had done something this simple. Beer and nachos with buddies. No ulterior motives. He’d missed this more than he could express, so he shook Brand’s and Hugo’s hands, and then left.
He texted Josiah that he was on his way home on the walk to his car. The sports car was a tad out of place in a parking lot full of pickups, dusty sedans, and a few motorcycles. Maybe he should trade it in for something cheaper after all. Something better on gas, better on the backroads, and that would give him a little bit of cash in his pocket. He’d look online later and see what was available locally. No sense in wasting gas driving all the way to Amarillo if he could avoid it.
Josiah was lingering by the front door when Michael walked up onto the porch, and he started talking before Michael even opened the screen door. “I’m so sorry, but I really need to leave, Michael. I forgot I had agreed to meet someone and I’m late, but I couldn’t leave your father alone.”
“Hey, no, it’s fine. My fault.” The wide-eyed, red-faced way Josiah bounced on the balls of his feet tempered Michael’s initial annoyance at Josiah not remembering this meeting when Michael first called about staying late.
“I told him he could go,” Dad shouted from his bed. “Not gonna keel over dead if I’m alone for thirty minutes.”
“I know, but I agreed to do a job,” Josiah replied. “We didn’t have any issues, but if you have questions, text me, okay?”
“Sure,” Michael said. “Go do your thing. Sorry about making you late.”
“It’s fine, and thank you.” Josiah practically ran to his car.
Michael stood on the other side of the screen door and watched Josiah drive away, as was becoming his habit. Most days Josiah lingered for a few minutes, seeming to enjoy their brief chats as much as Michael did. Today, he’d be lucky if he didn’t get a ticket on the way home—then again, it probably helped having the sheriff as a roommate.
“You have a beer for me?” Dad asked when Michael turned away from the door. He had a game show on TV but wasn’t watching it.
“Sure, beer and nachos.” Michael went into the kitchen for a glass of water to wet his slightly parched mouth, then returned to the living room. Stretched out on the couch to watch TV for a while. “Did Josiah mention what he was late for?”
“No, just got real spooked when he realized he’d forgotten whatever it was. I told him to leave, that you’d be home soon, but he refused to go. Stubborn Okie.”
“He told you he’s from Oklahoma?”
“Yep, we talked a bit about Tulsa. Says he lived there a long time before he moved to Texas for nursing school.”
That was the most personal information Michael had learned about the young nurse since they met. Then again, he and Josiah never had much time to get personal. One of these nights soon, he needed to ask Josiah to stay for dinner with them so Michael could get to know him better. They didn’t have to be best friends, but Michael still wanted to have some sort of friendship with Josiah.
He really wanted that to happen.
“What is wishful thinking?” Dad asked.
“Huh?” Michael blinked dumbly at his father. “What?”
Dad pointed at the television. “That question for the clue. Wishful thinking is the answer.”
“Oh. Right.” Duh. His dad wasn’t a mind reader. “So, um, do you want to watch a movie after this is over?”
“Sure. See if you can find an old Western or something. Gene Autry or Alan Ladd, maybe.”
“I’ll see what I can find.” One of Michael’s fondest childhood memories was of watching those old Westerns with both his parents. They’d make big bowls of air-popped popcorn, and sometimes Michael even got a cola to drink as a treat. Mom and Dad loved those movies to bits, because they romanticized the life of ranchers and cowboys, and for a little boy like Michael, it had helped smooth the edges of the rough life it really was.
Especially after the rough life took Mom from them both.
While Dad finished watching his game show, Michael used his phone to find a good movie Dad’s cable would allow them to stream. Once he found one he thought Dad might like, Michael went into the kitchen to make popcorn.
Chapter Seven
Michael stood by the front door the next morning, lunch bag in hand, waiting impatiently for Josiah to arrive for work. He wasn’t impatient because he was late (a quick call to Brand or Wayne would give him extra time), but because Josiah was always early. He was supposed to start his shift at eight-fifteen, and he always arrived by eight-ten. It was already eight-sixteen, so Michael was antsy and unsure why.
