“What is the point, Mitch?”

Bailey put his head between his paws and continued to make eye contact.

“What if I want to stop working and do something different? I don’t have that freedom, and it irks me to hear you think you do.”

How dare he try to manipulate her. “I don’t think I have that freedom, Mitch. I know I have it. I won’t starve. I want to be happy. Can you understand that?”

Bailey stood up and barked.

“Nothing you say makes sense to me. Where are you?” Mitch asked. “Did you get a dog?”

She wasn’t going to tell him she was at Cal’s house. “Can we agree to disagree?” she asked.

“Not an option,” Mitch said. “Worrying about you keeps me awake at night.”

He would say or do anything to control her, and his final attempt unleashed her anger. “Think of me as one of your students,” she said. “You’re good at compartmentalizing when it comes to them.”

“What does that mean?” Mitch asked.

She had nothing else to say to her brother. “I think we’re at an impasse. Let’s not make it worse. I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“Don’t forget the pies,” Mitch said.

She couldn’t think of a snappy comeback, so she said, “I won’t. Goodbye,” and hung up the phone.

Bailey barked again.

“Do you need to go out?” Bryony asked

Cal’s dog lay down and put his head between his paws, watching her.

“Bark if you want to go for another walk.”

He rolled to his side and closed his eyes.

Buggy started to purr.

Sandwiched between the dog and the cat, Bryony opened the book again and noticed how punching back a little invigorated her. Tomorrow night she would make and deliver a bean pie to Mitch because beans, beans were good for the heart, and he was full of hot air.

CAL MAKES A CALL

On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, Cal pulled into the driveway of his father’s house.

“The doctor sure was angry with you,” his father said.

“He wasn’t mad at me.” Cal turned off the car. “He was frustrated with you.”

The doctor had tried to educate Cal Sr. with facts and figures about the risk of falls to older adults. His patient replied with taunting suppositions about the doctor’s motive, asking if he owned stock in companies providing care for the aged.

“It’s my choice,” his father said as he unfastened his seatbelt. “I’d rather die miserable at home than live in one of those places they stick you in to suck as much money out of you as they can while you slowly waste away.”

“We’re all trying to keep you as healthy as you can be,” Cal said. “Nobody wants to see you in a situation where you’re miserable, barely clinging to life.”

His father flipped open the handle on the passenger side door. “I’ll never cling to life, Cal. Miserable or not, life clings to me.”

Once inside the house, Cal helped his father to the living room. Earlier in the day, Heidi’s husband and son-in-law had moved in an adjustable twin bed and potty chair, just in case.

After settling his father into the recliner beside the bed, Cal asked, “Do you need anything else?”

“You look worse than I do,” his father said. “Go to bed.”

“Heidi’s bringing over dinner soon.”

“I’ll be fine.” His father waved him out of the room. “See you in the morning.”

“Okay.” Cal backed out the door. “Call me if you need anything.” He held up his cell phone.

His father touched the cell phone on the table beside his recliner. “I’m fine, Cal. Go to bed.”

Trudging up the stairs, Cal pulled a slip of paper out of his pants pocket. Nurse Rachel had slipped her phone number to him after she wheeled his father out to the car. Cal keyed it into his cell phone with her name, laid the phone on the table beside his bed, and undressed.

He slid between the sheets, hoping for a quick nod off, but his mind raced. He picked up the phone and made a call, which was answered right away.

“Hi,” he said.

“I’m glad you called,” Bryony said.

Her voice was sweeter than anticipated, almost seductive.

“You are?” Cal’s mind calmed as he focused on her voice. He thought about the kindness in her eyes, how it soothed him.

“How’s your father doing?” she asked.

Cal sighed. “We made it home. He’s comfortable. My sister’s bringing dinner for him. I’m exhausted. I wanted to thank you for helping. You’ve made this all so much easier for me.”

“Not a problem. How long do you think you’ll be staying with your father?”

“I have no idea.” Cal yawned. “We’ll follow through with the discharge plan. Hire somebody to stay with him until we’re sure he’s stable, or longer. I think I’ll be up here more often.”

“Let’s get together when you get back,” Bryony said.

Cal’s heart swelled. He needed this, something to look forward to. “I’d like that.” He was so exhausted, so appreciative of her presence on the phone, he teared up.

“Sleep well, Cal.”

“You too, Bryony.”