Page 104 of Tumbleweed Temptation
The man himself came to the door and looked down at the two of them. “What are you doing out here, Austin?”
Austin pushed to his feet, but not as fast as Con. “I have some business to talk over with you, sir.”
“You couldn’t call? I could have come to see you in town, and now my wife is upset.”
“I’m sorry about that, sir, but I felt it was more urgent than I thought you would consider it, so I came to make my case face to face.”
Con made a dismissive noise and headed down the steps, back toward the barn.
Austin couldn’t let that attitude deter his mission. “Mr. McKay. Is there somewhere we can talk?” He was pretty sure the older man was going to lead him out to the fields again. Instead, he swung the door open and motioned Austin inside.
Austin had never been inside the house before. He and Austin had been friends in high school, but Austin hadn’t had a car to drive out here, and Con had never brought him.
The place was pretty and bright, limestone accents, light-colored walls with rustic metal art on the walls, pictures framed in barn wood, leather furniture. Lots of light shone through the filtered windows and skylights. But it was surprisingly messy, the wood floors dusty. Austin wouldn’t have thought Mr. McKay would tolerate that, not after what Austin had seen in the barn.
Mr. McKay stepped around him to lead the way, and Austin found himself glancing around to see where Mrs. McKay might be.
The older man led the way to a room and closed the door. He didn’t offer Austin one of the heavy leather seats, as he walked to stand behind his own desk, putting a barricade between them.
“What do you think you’re doing out here?”
Austin wasn’t sure if Mr. McKay was upset about Mrs. McKay’s reaction, or the idea that his secret might be out. “I told Con I was coming to ask for more funding.”
Mr. McKay made a noise similar to the one Con had made outside.
“Sir, you need to let your family know. The test results, they aren’t great. We need to get treatment started right away, and while I can go with you once a week, I can’t go every day, and you’re not going to be able to drive yourself. The medicine will make you too ill.”
Mr. McKay’s jaw set stubbornly. “I can do it. Find someone.”
“And how are you going to explain going every day to San Angelo? How are you going to explain being too weak to work?”
“Alex Trebek did it, and looked just fine doing it.”
“Alex Trebek has a support system. Hell, the whole country knew about his illness. If you want to make it through, you need to build that for yourself. Your family needs to know the truth, and the sooner the better.”
The old man braced his fists on top of his desk and looked down. “I can’t put them through it.”
Austin braced his feet apart on the Saltillo tile floor and folded his arms over his chest. “Sir. You’re not putting them through anything. You’re the one who’s going to be hurting and needing support. It’s going to be you who becomes weak and sick. And you can’t do this on your own. I will not say anything without your permission, but you are going to have to ask for help.”
“My wife—she can’t drive anymore, and Con—he has to run the place. So who’s going to take me for treatment? No, it’s best that I just figure that it’s my time. I’m not going to take the treatment.”
A strange kind of panic rose up in Austin. “Sir. And what do you think will happen to you? Your body will stop functioning, but you’re not going to just drop dead. You’re going to get weaker and weaker, and your family will wonder why and then wonder why you didn’t want to fight to be with them.” He took a step toward the desk. “Don’t you think your family wants you around for the future? You owe them to fight.”
The older man raised his gaze to Austin, and for a brief moment, Austin saw the despair in his eyes. Austin felt an answering despair in himself. The man was going to deny himself treatment to protect his family? How did that make sense?
Austin’s brain scrambled for a solution. “Look, what if we—I can take you one day a week. We can ask for volunteers, someone every day to drive you up to San Angelo, wait with you, and drive back. People always have business there. They can do their errands or whatever and come back to the treatment center for you. Something. You have to fight, sir.”
“And have everyone in my business? No. What is my prognosis, Austin? Am I going to live? I researched the cancer I have. The outlook isn’t good, even with early detection, which you said yourself this isn’t. So what do I have to look forward to? Losing my hair, my teeth, with the radiation that’s only going to make me miserable, not better. Only going to extend a painful existence.”
“Sir. I’m asking you. You cannot make this decision on your own. Please talk to your family. Let them be a part of this. I know this is how you do things, I know you protect them. But this—this isn’t protecting them. This is going to hurt them when they learn you knew what was happening and you didn’t want to fight to be with them.” He took a deep breath when Mr. McKay’s expression darkened. “You’re not going to be able to hide it as it progresses. I can talk to them with you, present the options, and be as honest as you want me to be. Please, sir.”
The man looked away, studying the top of his desk for a long moment. “I’ll think about it.”
Austin’s hopes sank. He wouldn’t. Austin was being dismissed. He turned toward the door.
“How much time do I have?”
The roughness of Mr. McKay’s voice stopped Austin in his tracks.
