Page 31 of Paging Dr. Breakup
Pulling up to the cabin, he scanned for anything out of place.
Nothing. No other vehicles.
He tried to see his family’s home like Deirdre would. The handmade two-story cabin had repairs and additions over the years, but it was a solid structure. Lights glowed from the front windows. Off to one side was another metal building that was dark—the garage-barn-shed.
He scanned the snow, gravel, and icy mud-covered parking pad, then studied the spruces protecting the north and west of the house—a necessary windbreak in this area. Opposite the windbreaks, hills covered in low pines and leafless deciduous trees rolled back down toward town and the river.
He got out and came around to Deirdre’s side of car, helping her out. He winced as her booties, more fashionable than functional, squelched in the messy mixture underfoot. Keeping a hand under her arm, they walked up a few porch steps to the front door, which opened right as he lifted his hand to knock. Doofus came crashing past Mom and Pop and almost barreled Deirdre and Cal over.
“What are you doing here, son?” Pop said, narrowing his eyes.
He looked fine. Healthy. Ornery.
“Mom said some guy was snooping around.” He gave Doofus one last scratch behind the ears before straightening.
The dog nosed at Deirdre’s hand for more attention.
“You have Deirdre Steen with you.”
Very observant. Cal moved his hand to cup her elbow lightly. “Yes, we came from dinner. And the ER. It’s been a strange evening.”
Mom poked her head out next to Pop, her gray hair curling over her shoulders. “Oh, hi, honey. How was your date?”
Cal and Deirdre glanced at each other. “Um,” he said.
Waving her hands, Mom looked past them and into the twilight with a quick frown that morphed into a big smile. “Oh, quit talking out there and come on in. Hi, Deirdre!”
“Hi, Aggie. Bruce,” Deirdre said on a laugh as she patted Pop on the arm and entered the house.
After avoiding the wet nose of Doofus while they took off their shoes in the entryway, Cal followed as Deirdre padded in socked feet into the warm living room. Dark brown tail wagging, his parents’ retired sled dog trotted over to the living room and curled up on the couch, apparently satisfied that he had completed his mission to greet and lick visitors.
Cal smiled and looked around.
Always the ghosts of his past lived here. This was where he and Elijah had hung out after school. Sometimes Deirdre joined them. Classmates had come over for bonfires on Saturday nights in an open area of hillside below the house. Memories surfaced of laughing with Elijah and Deirdre and their friends, while Pop pretended to have chores nearby so he could keep an eye on everyone. All while Mom made unending batches of cookies for Cal and his ravenous teen friends. He inhaled, catching the familiar vanilla and warm chocolate scent.
“What’s going on, Mom?” he said.
“Want dinner? If you don’t mind low-cholesterol cooking,” she said too brightly, with a quick glance at Pop, who all but bared his teeth.
Cal paused, uneasy. Mom rarely pulled punches. She would eventually share with him about the person who had come by the house. For now, a whiff of savory venison stew hit him, making his mouth water. “Sure. We had to cut our meal short due to an emergency.”
Deirdre nodded with a wry expression.
“You were in the ED? Everything okay?” Mom said.
Cal shook his head. “Can’t talk about it. Privacy and all.”
“Deirdre, maybe you’ll give me the news.”
Her blue eyes sparkled. “You know the rules, Aggie. I can’t say.”
Pop walked over, his gait slightly bow-legged and stiff, like his knees bothered him. It was tough to see him slowing down. Pop settled at the head of the table with a groan and closed one eye to stare at Cal and Deirdre. “No such thing as privacy in this area. Remember how my personal business and all the stuff in the ED went plumb through town and back.”
“That’s because you told everyone who would listen, Bruce!” Deirdre said, making Pop sit up straight. “You couldn’t stop grumping about the adhesive stuck on your chest from our EKG monitors!”
He pulled a face. “They really should make something that doesn’t pull out hair.”
“Then we can’t monitor your heart.” Batting her eyes, she said sweetly, “Andall the stuffwas your heart giving you trouble. Which we fixed. With those EKG monitors that stuck to your chest. Which saved your life.”
