When his dad was younger, someone had given him the nickname “Outlaw.” In Nashville, stories about George “Outlaw” McKnight were legendary. He’d made a man piss his pants with just a stare. He’d won a bar brawl against six men without a scratch on him.
All of his life, Kade had grown up with a father that was imposing, intimidating, and feared.
That wasn’t the same man that Kade saw now. This man looked small, weak, and feeble. There was a tube beneath his nose that wrapped around his ears and he was leaning on an oxygen tank beside him.
“Heard you were back in town,” George said as he turned his back to Kade and took two steps toward a thread-bare recliner.
Kade ducked his head and followed his father into the musty trailer and winced at the overwhelming smell of cat piss and cigarettes. When the door shut behind him, he noticed the vast array of prescription bottles on the TV tray set up beside the La-Z-Boy. There had to be at least a dozen, all different sizes. Some were short and fat, others tall and skinny.
A different kind of uneasy feeling settled in Kade’s chest.
“You’re sick.” Kade stated bluntly as he lowered down onto the bench seat in the kitchenette area.
Small talk had never been the McKnight way. If you had something to say, you said it. No pussyfooting around, was how his dad used to put it.
“Yep.” George’s attention remained on the twenty-four-inch console television that they’d had since Kade was a kid. The host of Antiques Roadshow just asked a man where he’d found his Benjamin Ward Chamber Clock and his dad seemed riveted.
“How long?”
“Six months.”
That number shocked Kade. “You’ve been sick for six months?”
“No, that’s how long they gave me.”
“Gave you…? You’re dying?” Kade waited to feel the relief that he’d always assumed would be his reaction when this news came. But it didn’t come. He didn’t feel anything.
“We’re all dying.” George wheezed and coughed before continuing gruffly, “And they’ve been giving me six months for the past three years so what the hell do they know?”
It didn’t surprise Kade that whatever was killing his father was having a hard time doing so. He was a tough SOB. “What is it? What’s wrong with you?”
“Throat cancer. Liver failure. Enlarged heart.”
“Fuck.” Kade leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands as he stared down at the Parquet flooring. “I’m sorry.”
“No you’re not,” George snapped and Kade looked up to see his father’s expression tighten. His lips pursed and if Kade didn’t know any better he would’ve sworn he saw tears forming in his old man’s eyes. “And you shouldn’t be. You shouldn’t even be here.” George motioned to the door, extending an invitation for his son to get the hell out.
Kade stood. He didn’t need to be told twice. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m moving back home. To Whisper Lake. I wanted you to hear it from me.”
George’s sharp nod was his only response.
Kade opened the door but stopped short of exiting. “What’s the story with the dog?”
“The damn thing showed up here after it had been hit by a car. I fixed up his leg and the dumbass went right back out and got hit again. The damn thing cost me six hundred dollars in vet bills. I had to chain it up so it’d stop playing chicken with traffic.”
Kade hadn’t expected to hear that his dad had actually been trying to help the dog or that he’d spent money on the animal. “He was out of water and it’s ninety degrees outside.”
George sighed and his shoulders rounded in a defeated posture. “Dumbass knocks the thing over every morning. I don’t know what the hell to do. I was gonna bolt it down but I—” George started coughing again.
“I can take him,” Kade offered.
He’d planned on telling his dad that he was taking the dog, but that’s when he’d thought he’d been abusing him. It was clear to him now that the thing was too much for his father to handle.
“Good. Take him.” George cleared his throat and wiped his forefinger and thumb beneath his eyes. “I didn’t want the damn thing anyway.”
Kade never thought he’d see the day when he felt sorry for his father. But that was exactly what he felt now. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
Before he left, he turned back once more to ask, “What’s his name?”
“Dumbass,” his father answered gruffly.
Right. Kade grinned. Dumbass.