Page 64 of Playing for Keeps
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JUSTIN
Justin tightened his grip on the steering wheel and twisted, burning his palms with the friction. The house his truck faced was even more dilapidated than the one he’d grown up in, but none of it was a surprise. Full trash bags were heaped beside the front door. An old pick-up truck sat on one side of the house with another beside it. There was a good chance neither of them would start.
Chuck had always been lazy, but he’d taken things to a new level recently. The neighbors on both sides had tall privacy fences bordering Chuck’s yard as if thin boards would deter the man if he set his mind to evil.
In a split-second decision, Justin unbuckled his seat belt and slipped out of the truck. It wouldn’t getany easier if he kept staring at the problem in front of him.
A thin layer of frost crunched beneath his boots as he stepped up to the front door. Did he really need to do this? Was he going to open a can of worms when he and Caroline were so close to solving the problem that had been hounding them for the last month?
Justin raised his hand and rapped his knuckles against the wooden door. Silence settled around him for a tense thirty seconds before he knocked again.
Chuck shouted a string of colorful curses from inside before opening the door slowly. “What?”
It shouldn’t have been shocking to see Chuck so pale and withered, but the transformation was enough to steal Justin’s breath. His dad’s skin drooped, and bruises were stamped along his arms and hands. He leaned on a wooden cane, and his socked feet were swollen.
“What are you doing here?” Chuck asked with no less irritation than before.
Justin scoffed. “To be honest, I’m not sure.”
“Come to make sure I’m staying out of trouble.” Chuck looked Justin up and down. “I know that’s what this is.”
“Actually, I know that if you’ve been causing trouble lately, you haven’t been caught. It’s enough of a change to keep anyone with good sense on edge.”
Justin’s dad let out a small chuckle that quicklyturned into a coughing fit. Each wheeze was a croupy sputter that wracked the man’s frame.
When the coughing settled, Chuck waved a hand and stepped slowly out of the way. “Come on in.”
Of all the things Justin had prepared for today, an invitation to come in wasn’t on the list. Now, there wasn’t much to do but step inside.
The rotting smell hit him first, then he saw the filth. There were even more bags of trash piled up inside. Dirty dishes covered every inch of the kitchen counters, crumpled laundry trailed over the floors, and a sickly-thin dog with matted hair scurried into a dark room.
“Um, are you working these days?” Justin asked.
“Nope. Just living off the government,” Chuck said as he shuffled his feet to the living room and stopped in front of a worn recliner. “Have a seat.”
Justin studied the couch. It was the same one his dad had owned for the last thirty years, but it was covered in dirty paper plates and stiff rags. Was that a chocolate cookie or something worse sitting on the arm rest?
Chuck let out anoofas he fell back into the recliner. “How’s the life of a celebrity?”
“I’m not a celebrity, and I’m not playing baseball anymore.”
“Hmm. Can’t understand why you’d want to give that up, considering the cushy pay.”
Of course it had always been about money forChuck. It was the only reason he’d allowed Justin to play baseball in high school. A coach finally convinced Chuck that his son had a shot at making it, and his whole attitude about the game shifted.
Well, some of his attitude. He still hadn’t shown his face at games or signed up to help run the concession stand.
“I had shoulder surgery and didn’t see the point in going back.”
“Yeah, success might kill you,” Chuck mumbled as he squirmed in his chair.
Justin shrugged. “I needed the money back then. I don’t now.”
“Must be nice. Did you come here to gloat?”
“I came to see how you’re doing.”
