to stay in one of their apartments downtown. I was expected to be there by the end of the week, but before I headed that way, I needed to stop by and see my mother before she blew a damn gasket. She’d been calling me every other day for the past two months asking when I was going to come see her, and I figured I’d put her off long enough.
“Have fun with that,” he heckled. “Think I’d rather stay here with all the raging hormones. Better get going. Going out on a run in the morning. I’ll check in with you in a few days. Try to stay out of trouble.”
“Always,” I answered before hanging up the phone.
I finished filling my tank and headed out to the highway. I made it to Caruthersville before nightfall. Not much had changed in the last four years since I’d been home. All the familiar hangouts were still intact, even those like the Rib Shack that should’ve been closed down years ago. When I pulled into my parents’ driveway, I noticed that all of the lights were on and my mother was standing at the kitchen sink looking out the window. A huge smile spread across her face when she spotted me, and I hadn’t even made it off my bike before she was racing down the steps and rushing towards me. The years had been good to her. She was still as beautiful as I remembered, tall and lean with her dark brown hair cut short around her face. Her dark green eyes sparkled as she ran over to me with her arms spread wide.
Once she had me in her arms, she cried, “I can’t believe you’re really here.”
“Told you I was coming,” I teased.
She put her hands on my shoulders, giving me one of her reprimanding glares, and huffed, “Don’t get cute with me, Thomas. It’s been too long. I’ve missed you something awful.”
I leaned towards her, kissing her lightly on the cheek, and said, “I’ve missed you too, Mom.”
“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to call your mother from time to time and let her know how you’re doing,” she fussed. Before I had a chance to defend myself, she said, “I’ve just made a batch of chicken and dumplings. You hungry?”
Choosing to ignore her comment about calling, I smiled and answered, “Hell yeah. I’m always up for your chicken and dumplings.”
“Grab your stuff and I’ll get you some warmed up,” she ordered as she started back towards the house.
“Hey,” I called out to her. “Is Dad in the garage?”
She nodded as she pointed to the back door. “He’s been out there since he got home from work. Has a project he’s been working on. Maybe you could help him out, but don’t take too long. I’ll have your dinner ready in a few minutes.”
“I won’t be long,” I told her as I got my stuff out of my saddle bag and headed towards the garage. When I walked in, I was welcomed with the view of my father’s backside. He was leaning over the hood of a 1946 Ford F1, completely oblivious that I’d even walked up next to him. I glanced over the body of the old beat-up truck, immediately thinking that he’d lost his mind trying to salvage it. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in the past fifty years, but if I knew my dad, he’d find a way to get it up and running.
I dropped my bag to the floor and said, “Hey, Pop.”
He jolted upright, slamming the top of his head against the hood with a loud clank, then shouted, “Damn it all to hell!”
I chuckled under my breath as I watched him rub his balding head with his calloused hand. When he looked over at me, I pressed my lips together, trying to hold back my laughter. It had been a year since I’d seen him, but he looked the same, just a few extra wrinkles around the eyes.
With his hand still on his head, he barked, “You did that shit on purpose, didn’t you?”
Shrugging, I laughed. “Who? Me? You know I’d never do anything like that.”
He cocked his eyes over in my direction and said, “Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve given me a damn headache. Now, come over here and give your old man a hug.” I walked over to him and he gave me a tight squeeze as he said, “Been too long, son.”
I took a step back and