by Nella Tyler
Chapter 9
Tim
I awoke, yet again, to the sound of the toilet running. The damn thing had kept me up all night!
I missed the solitude and quiet of my home in Fresno more and more with every moment that passed, but that was no surprise. I’d expected to feel horrible, being back here in this house that hadn’t changed a lick at all since I hightailed it out of here the second I received my high school diploma.
Everyone here told me I couldn’t do it, that I wouldn’t make it, and worst of all, that I’d be back before I knew it, like all the other failures who never could escape.
They all come back. It was a phrase I’d heard quite often from a multitude of people. Although instead of getting discouraged, every time someone said it to me, it became ingrained so deeply that I knew I was never going to end up like that. I was never coming back here for good. I was not going to be one of those people who got out into the real world, past the county line of the town they grew up in, and panicked.
I knew I had a talent that extended far beyond the town limits and could make me the fortune that I wished for.
And, the money to hire a damn plumber! I thought, wishing I could go back to sleep, but ultimately deciding that any further attempt would be as futile as the last.
So, I dragged myself out of bed and inched my way toward the bathroom. I took a shower and dressed so that I looked far nicer than I felt before I headed out to “the damn hardware store” as my father had called it.
On that, my father and I agreed.
I wasn’t exactly a Mr. Fix-It; in fact, I wasn’t any kind of handyman. I never had been, and I knew that pissed my father off something awful. Still, I could get by, and that was why I had agreed to fix his toilet.
I knew I didn’t owe my father anything and I didn’t have to prove anything to him, but I wanted to do this so that he didn’t have another thing to bitch at me about.
I knew from the noise and what small amount I did retain about home improvement from my father, that to fix the toilet, I needed to get a new O-ring. So, I went to the store and skimmed past the familiar aisles until I found the one I needed.
Again, I was bombarded with memories that I didn’t want to have. They distracted me from my purpose and made this trip even longer than it needed to be. I remembered coming here as a kid and playing in the aisles. What annoyed me was that I remembered having fun and wondered how I could have ever enjoyed such a simple, dull existence.
Around here, the highest accomplishment was to keep what your daddy owned before you, raise a family, and die, so your kids could do the same thing. It was pointless to me, but for some reason, many of the people I grew up with preferred it.
I was deep in thoughts that I wanted to escape from when I thought I heard my name.
Finally, my mind halted long enough for me to be sure that someone was calling my name. I turned to see a man I remembered from my past, but I was immediately certain it couldn’t be who I thought it was.
“Tim Meck! Damn, buddy! How the hell are you?”
I squinted at the approaching man and called the first name that made sense. “Hayden? Hayden Adams? Is that you?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot about me?” He beamed. “I mean, it’s one thing to lose touch, but I thought we were better friends than that?”
“Oh my God, Hayden! You look exactly like your dad!” I laughed, momentarily losing all sense of current self-preservation to the memories I shared with my childhood friend. I stuck my hand out, but Hayden pulled me into a quick embrace.
“Wow!” I exclaimed, still amazed that it was actually him. “I haven’t seen you since high school.”
“Yeah. We look old!” he chuckled, rubbing his scruffy beard in the same manner his father used to.
“Well, you look old. I look cultured.”
“You look like you’ve got your head up your ass, is more like it,” he retorted and I laughed.
Hayden always did know how to put me in my place and never missed an opportunity. For as long as we’d been friends, he’d never had any trouble picking out the flaws in my arrogance and using them against me.
“Hey, how’s your dad?” Hayden asked as though he suddenly remembered why this wasn’t exactly a chance encounter.
“Thankfully, he’s doing okay. I saw him last night. He looked pretty banged up, but I’m sure it isn’t anything he can’t handle.”
Hayden bobbed his head as he listened with genuine concern. “Good. I’m glad to hear he’s okay. What was he doing, anyway?”
“Believe it or not, he claims he was on his way here. Same reason I’m here now. His toilet is leaking.”
“Shit,” Hayden answered as his jaw hinged. “Don’t tell me that. Now I feel responsible.”
“Well, don’t. Dad swears it was someone passing through town, with no clue how to drive.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Nah, he’ll be all right. I’m happy I ran into you, though.” I paused for a moment before I added, “So, what are you up to?”
“Running this place,” he replied, as though he knew how I felt about the genealogical cycle of imprisonment that ensnared most the people living in this town. “I took it over when my dad died.”
“Oh, dude…I’m sorry for not coming to the funeral. My dad, with all his tact, called and left me a message, followed by an explanation of why he was telling me via message. I wanted to go, but I couldn’t get away from work.”
“Dude, it’s fine. I get it. You live across the country, and you’re busy. I might not understand any of what you do, but I am sure that it takes a whole lot of time.”
“Yeah, but I should’ve been there,” I answered, feeling a genuine pang of guilt. His father had always been nice to me, sometimes nicer than my own father was, and because of that, I knew I had a responsibility and I’d failed.
Thankfully, my old buddy didn’t take it too hard. Instead, he grinned and answered in a fashion that only he knew how. “That’s all right! If you want to make it up to me and my old man, come fishing with me tomorrow. Afterward, we can throw a few back at the old watering hole. We can catch up on the last...what? Decade or so?”
Hearing the words “throw a few back” and “old watering hole” made me want to give an immediate excuse to escape having to endure what Hayden considered the simple joys of country life – a concept I found tedious and torturous.
Though, the idea of spending time with Hayden and catching up was appealing, so I reconsidered my knee-jerk reaction.
“Sure,” I answered, resisting the urge to make some smartass comment about there not being anything else to do in this town.
“Sweet!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with the same, genuine, down-home country charm that always made him popular with the girls around here.
I had been too busy planning my escape route to care all that much about the women of this town, but seeing the same look he always had made me realize how much I had missed my friend.
“So, what do I need for this ancient piece of shit?” I asked, turning back to the wall of O-rings and toilet parts.
Hayden chuckled, but I got the feeling he was bridling another reaction, or at least a comment. Without thinking twice, he grabbed for one of the O-rings nearest to him, insisting that this was exactly what I needed. I trusted his word, since he had built his life around handy work, insisting on paying and returned to the house to fix the toilet.
It was a shitty job, in more ways than one, dealing with the old plumbing and working around my father’s patch jobs, but eventually, it was fixed. After I washed my hands, I stood back from the toilet and admired my work.
Not half bad! I thought, feeling a sense of accomplishment that probably wasn’t all that warranted. At least one thing in my life is fixed.
With that thought, I grumbled and my heart sank, thinking of all the work I was missing and what I needed to catch up on. I huffed and decided that I should probably try to get to work on
a couple things, while I was there.
I had a client I personally took care of who needed my assistance and I figured if I could work on that project, at least I wouldn’t feel so disconnected to the outside world.
So, with a slightly renewed spark, I dug my laptop out of its case, powered it on and… You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. I tried my best not to hit something.
“What do you mean, there’s no Wi-Fi?” I yelled at my screen as though I expected it to give me an answer.
I growled, low and simmering in my throat as I narrowed my eyes at my basically useless two-thousand-dollars’ worth of hardware. After fuming for a few moments, I reigned in my anger, huffed with annoyance, and easily closed the laptop. Shoving myself away from the kitchen table, I left the house and headed for the hospital, taking the setback as an indication that it was time to visit my father.
I knew I should’ve felt guilty, since it was already dark by the time I arrived, but I didn’t. I had done a lot today. Fixing the toilet and not hiring a plumber to fix it was a big deal for me; not that my father would even care to notice.
When I arrived in the doorway of my father’s room, I suddenly felt like a teenager again, coming in late, past my curfew, with alcohol on my breath.
Instead of looking pleased to see that I hadn’t skipped town and left him there after I became fairly certain he wasn’t going to keel over, my father simply narrowed his eyes at me. He stared at me in a manner I knew I didn’t deserve, causing my spine to prickle with annoyance. Still, I tried to be pleasant, since I was well aware that I had nothing to be ashamed of.
“I did what you asked. I went down to the hardware store, bought the piece for the toilet, and fixed it myself.”
I wasn’t sure if I expected praise, since I was sure I should know better by now, but I was expecting more than the nod of the head I received. I narrowed my eyes. “That’s what took me so long. Then, I tried to work a little bit, but you still don’t have Wi-Fi.” I tried not to sound as annoyed as I felt, but I knew it wasn’t working.
In response, my father simply nodded again, causing me to grow even angrier. Well, fuck you too then, I thought, but decided it wasn’t worth the fight.
Instead, I turned around in search of the doctor who oversaw my father’s care. I held out the hope that she would give me a timetable that would allow me to get the hell out of this town without looking like a total asshole.
When I found her, she was having a word with one of the nurses. As I walked up, she finished the conversation, grinned with a Southern sincerity, and turned with grace.
“Excuse me?” I called, reaching out for her.
The woman turned again and flashed a beam that was telling. For some reason, it seemed she was happy I had returned, as though she was sure I wouldn’t.
Great! She already thinks I’m an asshole, I couldn’t help but think as I tried my best to keep from rolling my eyes at the thought.
Unfortunately, I knew Southern hospitality better than most. Dealing with everyone from CEOs to the preacher of this hole in the ground throughout different parts of my life, I had gotten fairly good at deciding what people were actually saying.
This woman, behind her painted lips and perfect teeth, was raking me over the coals for being what she probably considered a terrible son. After all, my father had a tendency to be a nice man, sometimes even warm and caring when it came to anyone but me.
“Mr. Meck!” she exclaimed. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Hello, Dr. Barnes,” I answered, knowing I shouldn’t be surprised that she remembered who I was immediately, but still couldn’t help but be taken slightly. “I was wondering how my father was doing…” I tried to grin at her, but it probably came out as aggravated as I was at being here. “You know, the man doesn’t tell me anything. To him, he’s fine and ready to go home.”
“Well, while your father is doing extremely well, especially for the extent of his injuries, he isn’t quite ready to leave. It should only be a few days, though.” As she paused, I started to relax, but the moment she spoke again, I knew I hadn’t waited for the closer – and I was certain I wasn’t going to like it.
“However, he will need to have someone with him to help him get around until his bones heal. Your father was extremely lucky, and unlike a lot of men his age, his body seems to be healing remarkably well, but he did sustain some serious injuries.”
“Oh?” I replied, trying not to sound as devastated as I was. The way she’d made it sound, he would be back running fucking marathons by the end of next week.
How did such a positive prognosis turn into me babysitting my father until his broken bones heal? I wondered, knowing I couldn’t stay in town that long.
“Your father seems like a strong man, but if he falls, even just once, he could permanently damage any one of his already weakened bones, which could lead to long-term care,” Dr. Barnes replied, seeing the obvious sense of disappointment on my face.
I clenched my teeth as she continued. “Fortunately, a month of having to help him minimally now will safe you both from the threat of chronic pain and immobilization.”
Was she doing this on purpose? I wondered. Is my father sick enough that he would get the doctor to make me feel guilty?
Eventually, I decided my father didn’t care that much about our relationship to do anything so underhanded for the sole purpose of spending more time with me. So, I let the thought slip away.
“Well, what do you think, Doc? Is there some in-home healthcare option I can sign him up for?” I didn’t want to sound like a dick, but I had a life to get back to.
I’m sure she couldn’t take a month off work to take care of someone, I thought, but didn’t want to say. Still, her face scrunched up and her light green eyes narrowed, darkening extensively.
“Mr. Meck,” she breathed, as though she was losing patience with me. “I’m sure you will agree that your father will not go for something like that. I am sure that the only person he would want taking care of him at this time is you.”
“He doesn’t want me,” I hissed, feeling the cold glower hardening my gaze.
“I don’t know,” she replied, her insistence remained, while her voice softened. “He seemed happy that you were here. I think your presence played a major role in him recovering as quickly as he has. Sometimes, all patients need to know is that their family still believes in them.”
I wanted to say something about my father never caring about me or what I did, so long as I wasn’t a good ol’ boy like his friends’ kids, but I bit my tongue.
“Besides,” she added, “it might be nice to go back to your roots a little. From what I hear, you lead a busy life up there in the city.”
“You know what they say: you can’t go home again,” I grumbled, trying and failing to hide my contempt for her prying into my personal life. However, before I got too offended, I felt a wicked grin cross my lips. “Have you been checking up on me, Dr. Barnes?”
Unfortunately for me, the expression she returned was genuine disinterest, which was something I couldn’t understand.
“Well, Mr. Meck, it is a small town and since you are one of the only people in this town to hit the ground running and never look back, you’re quite unique. Some people ‘round here want to be you, some people around here can’t for the life of them understand you, so sure. People talk. But my interest lies entirely with your father’s welfare, and I think that you staying with your father will be the best thing – for both of you.”
This response was strange. Her educated, honest answer sounded slightly strange, mixed with the down-home Southern belle accent that I noticed came far more pronounced when she was aggravated. Mine did, too, but there was something lyrical about the way she spoke.
Though her expression was calm and her voice remained conversational, I watched rouge flare against her alabaster skin as her eyes gleamed meaningfully. I had to admit, there was something attractive about her honesty and feisty, blatan
t retort.
“Well, Doctor, seeing as how I am not your patient, I don’t see how you could possibly have the nerve to try and tell me what is and what is not best for me,” I responded, my words slicing through the air, matching the course of my anger. “You don’t know what my life is like. You might enjoy your life here, but I don’t, and as long as we are being forthright, I want to get the hell out of here as soon as possible.”
“Fair enough,” Dr. Barnes answered, backing away slightly, as though my honesty had satisfied her, somehow. She huffed, and I watched the crimson anger spreading up her cheeks, across the bridge of her nose, start to recede.
“You are not my patient and therefore, I don’t have any right to tell you what would be in your best interest. However, I am telling you what I genuinely believe would be in your father’s best interest. I cannot stop you from leaving, and I won’t try to. You could spend money on home care that your father doesn’t need and go back to the life you love so much in the city, but that is not what I think is best for my patient.”
Well, then you take care of him, was what I wanted to say, but instead, I felt my own anger retreat and my business mind start to set in. I was done being honest with this woman. Now, it was time to utilize my charm in order to salvage any hope I had of not being thought of as an ass.
“Listen, Dr. Barnes. I’m sorry. It’s just that…being here…in this town, with my father, is weird. You’re right. I did leave here the day after graduation, and I never looked back. The last time I was here was for my mother’s funeral and having that resounding, terrible memory has only made me more uninterested in being here.”
“Yes, but your childhood couldn’t have been all bad. You must have some good memories…and the fact that you came here at all, given your obvious opposition to it proves that you care about your father.”
“I never said I didn’t love him. We have just…never seen eye to eye.”
“A lot of people don’t see eye to eye with their parents. That doesn’t mean that running away is the answer.”
