The Long Road Home

скачать книгу бесплатно


“But not even lighting the coals today?” Mom shook her head, then punched her glasses back up her nose. “He’s not paying attention.”

“Right.”

Mom’s voice went up a notch. “He’s been like this ever since he retired from the Post Office.”

“Right.”

“If you ask me, he needs to see a counselor.”

“Right...” Priscilla started. “Uh, do you think he would?”

Her mother sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know. He doesn’t listen to me anymore. Maybe if you talked to him about it.”

The last thing Priscilla wanted to do was get in the middle of this ongoing battle between her parents. Their lifelong bickering had always bothered her, and the only way she could deal with it was to stay out of their fights. But this sounded more serious than usual, and if Dad needed her help...

“Doesn’t Dad have any interests anymore?”

“Just watching television with that remote going, changing channels till he falls asleep.”

Which reminded her of Alyssa texting and Mia playing games on their phones. “Maybe the girls inherited gadget fever from their grandfather.”

Mom looked confused. “Gadget fever?”

“They both like to work with their phones. Play games, text.”

“Oh, right. I noticed.”

“But, if you ask me, Alyssa is carrying it too far.” Priscilla felt she had to confide in someone. “Do you know she won’t even turn her phone off when she goes to sleep? She keeps it under her pillow and replies to text messages from her friends all night. If anyone is lacking sleep, it’s her.”

“My, my.” Mom shook her head. “Kids these days.”

“I had to put a cot in the office for Mia. She says the vibrations from her sister’s phone bothers her.” Priscilla admitted, “It’s been a mess. I don’t know whether to discipline her or go easy...”

Mom interrupted, “Oh, I wouldn’t be disciplining her, dear. At least not for something that isn’t so serious. They’re not in school.”

“But it can’t be good for a girl to be up all night with her phone on. I’ve almost been tempted to call Paul.”

“Overseas?” Mom looked concerned. “Now I wouldn’t do that, Prissy.”

“I know. I don’t want to bother him.”

“And my grandkids may never come see me if things get too unpleasant for them.”

Priscilla sighed. “I know that, too. I just don’t want to be an...irresponsible aunt.”

Mom came closer and gave her a hug. “You’re not irresponsible. Don’t even think that. Kids are technology-crazy nowadays. In fact, we all have too much technology for our own good.”

“We sure do,” Priscilla agreed, hugging her mother back. “Too bad we can’t get updated along with our computers.” She had to ask one more question, “Do you think it’s normal for Alyssa and Mia to fight so much?”

Mom laughed. “Oh, honey, I thought you and Paul were going to start World War III when he was in high school.”

“That was because he was so many years older than me.” In comparison to Alyssa and Mia, who were closer in age. “He thought you were a little pest. One time he locked you in a closet.”

Priscilla nodded grimly. “I remember that.”

“However, I don’t think he would have done that if you hadn’t thrown his sneakers out the window or spied on him and his friends.”

Priscilla didn’t remember that. She objected, “I was a good little girl!”

“Well, you were never aggressive in an openly hostile way.”

Her mother certainly had a different view of things. “I wasn’t aggressive at all!”

Mom laughed. “Sweetheart, all kids are naughty at one time or another. You’re only human. Kids will be kids. They outgrow their stages.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind.” And she knew no one was perfect, including herself. She’d just forgotten about the sneakers, she guessed. As they put condiments out on a tray to take outside, Priscilla decided to bring the conversation back to her father. “Maybe Dad will outgrow his behavior, too.” Though she intended to keep an eye on him. “Maybe he has something like post-traumatic retirement syndrome.”

Mom smiled. “Well, we can hope so anyway.”

“Say, what about Dad’s bowling? He used to go every week.”

“He’s not doing it anymore. Some younger guy insisted on keeping score, which your dad used to do. Roger says he’s not useful anymore there, either, so he quit the league. Of course he could be useful around here, but—”

“Let me think about this, Mom,” Priscilla said, cutting her off before she could go another round. She’d been hoping for a nice relaxing evening with the whole family together. “Maybe I can come up with a way to get Dad in a better mood.”

“Someone has to!”

To distract Mom, she changed the subject. “People can have worse problems. Sam was pretty down this afternoon, too. It seems someone around here doesn’t like him.”

“What happened? Did he get into another fight?”

“Mom, that was when he was a teenager. He told me that, last week, someone opened the pasture gate and spooked his horses. And the other evening, someone spread boards with big nails around his parking lot. That could have caused a lot of damage to customers’ tires.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good.”

“No, and he’s worried that the culprit is out to ruin his business.”

“How terrible!” Mom pulled a pitcher of lemonade from the fridge, set it on the counter between a mixer and a blender. “Sam is just getting started.”

“You haven’t heard any kind of rumors about Sam or the ranch, have you?”

Mom shook her head. “No. Nothing. At the library, some of the kids said they were excited because their parents were going to let them try a trail ride.”

“So you’ve only heard positive stuff.”

“So far. Maybe you should go over to the hardware store and talk to old Bob Kinney. Everyone winds up in his place, so if there’s any gossip going around town, he’s probably heard it.”

“Good idea. If you don’t mind having the girls to yourself again, I might head over there after supper.”

Mom’s expression lit at the suggestion. “Mind? I would love it. I can’t get enough time with those girls.”

“Even Alyssa?”

Mom grinned. “I’ll just ask her to shut off her phone.”

“And you think that will work?”

“The power of a grandmother...”

They both smiled and headed back outside to see if the coals were finally ready.

* * *

PRISCILLA WALKED INTO Kinney’s Hardware an hour before closing. There were still quite a few customers in the aisles, browsing the goods. Some homes in the area were a century old and older, and when they needed to be repaired, Kinney’s was the place to look for parts. The shelves were packed with everything anyone could possibly require for home maintenance.

Old Bob Kinney was ringing up purchases for a woman nearly as elderly as he was. People called him Old Bob because he’d been a town fixture forever. And he looked it. His short hair was white, his face wrinkled with time. Although when she was a kid, he’d been a tall man who could fill a doorway, now he was a bit stooped and had little flesh left on his bones. He had to be in his early nineties, but he’d never considered retiring that she knew. Good for him. She saw for herself how being forced into retiring had made Dad miserable. And Mom.

While she was waiting, Priscilla chose a half dozen color identifiers for keys to her shop and to her apartment. And when Old Bob handed the customer her bag and she left, Priscilla stepped right up to the old-fashioned register and set the colorful rubber rings on the counter.

“Priscilla.” Old Bob smiled at her, revealing a missing tooth. “Haven’t seen you in a cow’s age.”

Though she had no idea of how long a “cow’s age” might be, she merely said, “I’ve been lucky that I didn’t have anything I needed to fix lately. How are you, Bob?”

“Can’t say I’m as spry as I used to be, but I’m still getting along.” He picked up the key identifiers and dropped them in a bag, then rang them up. “I hear your brother Paul’s girls are in town.”

Terrific. He just gave her the perfect in to the real reason she was here. “They are, for a good part of the summer.” She handed him money. “I’ve taken them out to the new Larson Dude Ranch a couple of times.”

Old Bob grunted.

Uh-oh, didn’t sound like he approved. She said, “Sam is doing a great job with the place.”

“Putting his old man out of business.”

Priscilla didn’t miss the note of disapproval in his tone as he handed her the change.

In case he wasn’t aware of the fact, she told him, “Dwayne retired before Sam came back.”

Old Bob just grunted again. He probably identified with Dwayne Larson, even though the man had chosen to retire.

“Are you angry with Sam for some reason?” she asked.

“Personally? I haven’t had any bad dealings with him since he got back in town. But you wait...just give him a chance.”

That’s what she was trying to do—give Sam a chance to succeed—but Old Bob meant it in a negative way. “Why? Did someone say something bad about him?”

“Didn’t have to. Sam Larson’s reputation precedes him. He was always trouble with a capital T.”

“When he was a teenager,” she agreed.

“No one can forget what he did to Will Berger’s kid.”

Priscilla took a deep breath. Sam hadn’t had that motorcycle accident on an icy road with Tim on purpose, but the boy’s father had blamed him anyway. And Tim might have come away with a limp, but other than that, she was pretty sure he was okay.

“That happened fifteen years ago. I thought maybe you heard a customer say something bad about Sam now.”

“Sam? You talkin’ about Sam Larson?”

The familiar smoke-roughened voice grated on her. Priscilla turned to see Cooper Peterson, an old rival and sometimes pal of Sam’s, directly behind her. He was holding packets of screws and a couple of strange-looking tools. His hands were streaked with black grease—he worked as a mechanic for one of the local gas and repair stations. And he belonged to a stock car club whose latest exploit was driving into mud holes and racing out of them.

“Cooper.”

“Priscilla.”

His grin showed off shiny white teeth, the best-looking part of him as far as Priscilla was concerned. His long hair was stringy, he sported one of those little chin beards she disliked, and he smelled like cigarette smoke. He was from a whole family that a lot of people disliked, partially because they were unpleasant and partially because they were often up to no good. But what she liked least about Coop was that he was still the low-life he’d been in high school, especially when it came to using women. He sported a different one on his arm every other month. She couldn’t believe so many foolish females lived in one area, but he was romancing them younger and younger, apparently to keep up the supply.