The Birdman's Daughter. Cindi Myers

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out of his chair, though sometimes that’s more trouble than if he sat still. The therapist is coming today to start working with him, so I’m hoping for good progress.”

      “That’s good. Don’t try to do too much by yourself, though. Get some help.”

      “I saw Del yesterday. I told him he’d have to help me and he volunteered his girlfriend-du-jour.”

      Tom laughed and she heard the scrape of a spatula against a pan. He was probably making eggs. “How’s it going there?” she asked.

      “Hectic, as usual. We’re starting that big job out at Adventist Hospital today, and we’ve still got ten houses left to do in that new development out near the airport.”

      Guilt squeezed her at the thought of all the paperwork those jobs would entail in the coming weeks. She was the one who kept the office running smoothly, not to mention their household. “Maybe you should hire some temporary help in the office,” she said. “Just until I get back.”

      “Maybe. But I don’t trust a stranger the way I trust you. Besides, you’ll be back soon.”

      Not soon enough to suit her. In nearly twenty-three years of marriage, they’d never been apart more than a night or two. The thought of weeks without him, away from her familiar routine, made her want to crawl back in bed and pull up the covers until this was all over. “How are the boys?”

      “Matt’s doing great. He’s running a crew for me on those subdivision jobs.”

      “And Casey?” She held her breath, waiting for news of her problem youngest child.

      “I got a call from the school counselor last night. He’s going to fail his freshman year of high school unless he can pull off a miracle on his final exams. And he’s decided he doesn’t want to work for me this summer.”

      There was no mistaking the edge in Tom’s voice. He took this kind of thing personally, though she doubted Casey meant it that way. “What does he want to do?”

      “Apparently nothing.”

      “Let me talk to him.”

      She heard him call for Casey, and then her youngest son was on the phone, as cheerful as if he’d been awake for hours, instead of only a few minutes. “Hey, Mom, how are you? I thought about you last night. Justin and I went to see this really cool band. They write all their own songs and stuff. You would have really liked them.”

      It would have been easier to come down hard on Casey if he were surly and uncommunicative, but he had always been a sunny child. She reminded herself it was her job as a mother to try to balance out some of that sunniness with reality. “Dad tells me the school counselor called him last night.”

      “It’s all such a crock,” he said. “All they do is teach these tests. The teachers don’t care if we learn anything useful or not. Why should I even bother?”

      “You should bother because a high school diploma is a requirement for even the most entry-level jobs these days, and Mom and Dad aren’t going to be around to support you forever.”

      “You don’t have to worry about me, Mom. I’ll be okay.”

      Okay doing what? she wanted to ask, but didn’t dare. The last time she’d hazarded this question, he’d shared his elaborate plan to become a championship surfer in Hawaii—despite the fact that he’d never been on a surfboard before.

      “What are you going to do this summer?” she asked instead. He had only one more week of school before vacation.

      “I thought maybe I’d just, you know, hang out.”

      He was fast becoming an expert at hanging out. “Your dad could really use your help. Without me there he’s having to do more of the office work.”

      “Matt’s helping him. A friend of mine has a job life-guarding at the city pool. He thinks he can get me on there. That would be a cool job.”

      Any job was better than no job, she supposed. “All right, if you get the job, I’ll talk to your dad.”

      “When are you coming home?”

      The plaintive tone in his voice cut deep. “I don’t know. In a few weeks. By the end of the summer, for sure.” Her original plan for a short visit seemed unrealistic now that she’d seen her father and realized the extent of his disability.

      “How’s Grandpa?”

      “He’s okay. The stroke paralyzed his left side, though with therapy, he should be able to get back to almost normal.” She hoped.

      “That’s good. Tell him I said hi. Dad wants to talk to you again.”

      Tom got back on the line. “He says he’s going to get a job lifeguarding at the city pool,” she said. “Maybe it would be a good thing for him to work for someone else for a summer.”

      “Yeah, then he’d find out how good he’s got it now.” He shifted the phone and called goodbye to the boys as they left for school and work, then returned to their conversation. “What did you tell Casey when he asked how long you’d be gone?”

      “I told him I’ll be home by the end of the summer, at the latest.” She didn’t know if she’d last that long, but she’d made a commitment and couldn’t back out now.

      “I don’t know how we’re going to do without you here for that long. I was thinking it would only be a few weeks.”

      She took a deep breath, fighting against the tension that tightened around her chest like a steel band. “I know I said that, but now that I’m here, I can see that was unrealistic. He’s going to need more time to get back on his feet.”

      “Then your mother and brother should pitch in to help. They live right there and neither one of them has a family.”

      “They won’t help. Del hardly spent five minutes here yesterday.”

      “What about a nursing home? Or a rehab facility? His insurance would probably even pay for part of it.” Tom was in problem solving mode now. For him, everything had a simple answer. But there was nothing simple about her relationship with her father.

      “It would kill him to be in a place like that. To have strangers taking care of him. You know how he is about his privacy. His dignity.”

      “I know he’s never gone out of his way to do anything for you. And we need you here.” The no-nonsense tone she admired when Tom dealt with vendors and difficult customers wasn’t as welcome when it was aimed at her.

      “I know you do,” she said, struggling to keep her temper. She’d been away from home scarcely twenty-four hours and he was already complaining. She’d wanted sympathy from him. Support. Not a lecture. “Right now, Dad needs me more.”

      “What are you going to do if your father doesn’t recover enough to look after himself again?” Tom asked.

      “I don’t know.” Having him come live with them in Denver was out of the question. The doctor had already told her his lungs couldn’t handle the altitude. She sighed. “If Dad doesn’t improve

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