Rory's Rock, page 9
“Rory, thank you for calling me back. Just for securities sake, would you please confirm your date of birth and your mother’s maiden name?”
Rory gave her the information.
“Thank you. The reason why I wanted to talk with you is because of your father, Garry Brown.”
Rory didn’t say anything, there was no need.
“After reading your father’s file, I can appreciate this isn’t easy for you.”
“No.”
“I won’t beat around the bush then and prolong your distress. I’m sorry, but there’s no easy way of delivering such news but your father was admitted to the prison hospital some time ago, and his condition has steadily worsened to the point where the doctor’s don’t think he has much longer to live.”
“Oh?” Rory was proud of himself for getting even that word out. His mind was all over the place. There was relief they weren’t releasing Garry so he wouldn’t be coming to Colorado. He experienced curiosity as to what had taken down his father, who had always been such a dominant and overbearing figure during Rory’s early years. Rory was essentially numb at the prospect his father would soon be dead. He certainly wasn’t sad, and he didn’t want to waste any energy on being glad, inappropriate though that emotion might be.
The numbness continued through the rest of the conversation with Ms. Brickhill, especially when she asked if Rory had any plans to come visit his father. He’d answered honestly and said he didn’t know yet. She seemed to understand or at least said she did. Rory gave her his cell number as that was a more direct way they could remain in contact. Before hanging up, he promised that if he decided to visit his father, he’d call Ms. Brickhill first so she could make the necessary arrangements.
After laying his phone on the bench, Rory let out a long breath and stretched.
“You okay?” Barry asked after a minute or so of silence.
“Dunno,” Rory answered honestly. He wasn’t sure how much Barry had picked up from only hearing one side of the call, so he filled the man in. “He has lung cancer. It’s spread and he doesn’t have long to live.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thanks,” Rory answered automatically. He guessed he was sorry, too, but it was complicated.
“And Ms. Brickhill asked if you wanted to visit him?” Barry prompted.
Rory let out a long breath. “Yeah.”
Barry squeezed his hand. “It’s almost lunchtime and I’ve got four, possibly five,” he looked down at Rory, “hungry cowboys to feed. Do you want to stay here or come with me?”
Rory didn’t want to be alone. He couldn’t cope with the news about Garry on top of what had happened with Zane. “When sorrows come, they come not single spies but in battalions.”
“Excuse me?”
Rory hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud. And Barry wouldn’t know anything of the kiss with Zane. “Uh, it’s just a quote. From Hamlet.” At Barry’s continued look of confusion, Rory added, “The Shakespeare play.”
Barry smiled. “Don’t think there are many cowboys who can quote Shakespeare.”
Rory ducked his head, feeling uncomfortable as if he didn’t belong here. Yes, he was a geek, a nerd, but he…
“Hey, no, don’t go there.” Barry pulled Rory into a hug. “I’m sorry. I think it’s bloody amazing you know all this stuff. I’m envious. Heck, I was born in Britain and I know next to nothing about my former country’s finest writer. Or is he a playwright?”
“More a playwright,” Rory said into Barry’s shoulder. He appreciated the close physical contact. Not as much as if Zane were the one hugging him, but Barry made for an adequate substitute.
“There should be a spare one in here I think,” Jake said, opening the door to the tack room and freezing on the threshold, Jimmy bumping into the back of him.
Rory stiffened and tried to pull away, but Barry wouldn’t let him.
“Yes?” Barry asked.
“Uh, Jake said.
“What’s happening?” Jimmy asked, looking over Jake’s shoulder.
“Rory just needed a hug, so if whatever you came in here for isn’t urgent then come back later.”
“No, it’s okay,” Rory said, this time making more of an effort to free himself from Barry. He thought it best to set the record straight as soon as possible. “I just got some bad news about my father and…”
“You’ve never mentioned your dad before,” Jimmy said.
“Uh, no.” Feeling he might as well unburden himself to his employers as well, he said, “He’s dying and I—”
“Oh, man, I’m sorry,” Jake said, coming into the room and pulling Rory into a hug.
Jake was an even better hugger than Barry. Still not as good as Zane, however. Rory asked himself if he should be comparing hugs at such a time.
“Yeah, real sorry to hear that,” Jimmy added, first patting Rory on the shoulder then pulling him into his arms once Jake had stepped back.
Maybe Jimmy and Jake tied in the hugging stakes, Rory privately decided.
“You can take off as much time as you need to go visit your dad. Don’t worry about that,” Jake said.
“Absolutely,” Jimmy echoed.
“Thanks, but, well, it’s complicated.” Rory began.
“And we can discuss it later, if you want to,” Barry said, herding Jimmy and Jake towards the door. “But it’s time for lunch. Rory, you coming or…?”
“Coming,” Rory said, switching off the radiator before following the men out the door.
* * * *
Rory was so distracted over lunch even Wayne noticed.
“You missing the big guy?” he asked jokingly.
Rory was, but of course he also had other things on his mind. “Uh, I guess, but—”
“Leaves a big gap.” Wayne chuckled and looked at the empty space next to Rory.
“Leave him alone,” Jake told him. This raised an eyebrow from Wayne. “Rory’s got stuff on his mind. His dad’s sick and in the hospital.”
Wayne’s teasing stopped immediately, and he and Liam showed their concern by asking Rory questions, ones he wasn’t sure he wanted to answer.
Barry tried a couple of times to change the subject, but it soon returned to what Rory should do. Everyone was agreed Rory should go see his father.
“It’s not that simple,” Rory said. This was met with looks of confusion and curiosity. Rory had to tell them everything. After all, weren’t they his family? And didn’t families share their problems? “My father is in prison in Kansas…for murdering my mom.”
“Shit!” Liam said after a short but profound silence.
“Fuck! Talk about a conversation stopper,” Wayne observed, earning disapproving looks from Jake and Barry. Jimmy just looked…confused.
The debate raged around Rory as to whether or not he should go.
Barry tried to put a stop to the discussion, telling them lunch was over and they must have work to get back to. “And it’s Rory’s decision what he wants to do, and I for one will support him, whatever he decides.”
Everyone agreed with that sentiment but no one left the table, still talking. Although Rory hated being the center of attention, so much had happened to him lately he was mostly numb to this latest round.
The men seemed equally divided, Liam and Wayne saying he shouldn’t go, Jake saying he should. Although Barry didn’t venture his opinion in so many words, Rory could tell the man thought he should go see his father one last time. Oddly for him, Jimmy remained quiet. This was eventually noticed.
“What you think?” Wayne asked Jimmy.
Jimmy seemed to weigh his words carefully, and the fact he rarely did had Rory’s attention. “As you all know, when my dad found out I was gay, he, uh, didn’t take it well.”
That was a massive understatement. Liam had once confided to him that Mr. Wilson had put his son in the hospital with severe injuries.
Rory saw Jake’s jaw tighten, as did the hand holding his coffee mug. There was no love lost between Jimmy’s father and Jake.
“I never pressed charges. Maybe I should’ve,” Jimmy went on, “but I know that if he was dying I’d want to see him.”
Those words resonated with Rory, and as the chat continued around him, he resolved he would go to Kansas.
“Rory, you finished with your plate?” Barry asked, standing next to him.
Rory looked down. He’d only eaten half his lunch. “Yes, sorry. Distracted.”
Barry smiled at him sympathetically.
He handed Barry his plate. “I think I should be able to get everything I need in my backpack. Don’t plan on staying long.”
“You’re going then?” Liam asked.
Rory sighed and nodded. “I’ll probably regret it if I don’t.” He hoped he wouldn’t regret it once he did.
“Good man,” Jake said.
“You should take a small suitcase rather than your backpack. You can borrow one of mine if you need to,” Barry offered.
“Thanks but I wouldn’t be able to carry that on my motorcycle.”
There was a collective “What!” from Barry, Jimmy, and Jake. Then everyone at the table spoke at the same time. They used different words but they carried the same sentiment. They didn’t want Rory to ride his motorcycle to Kansas. It was too far, the roads would probably be too icy, the temperatures too low.
“You can drive,” Jake said, “so take one of the ranch trucks.”
Rory shook his head. “Apart from occasionally driving one of the trucks here on the ranch, I haven’t driven anything with four wheels on regular roads since driver’s ed and passing my test when I turned sixteen.” He hadn’t been able to afford a car back then but managed to buy a secondhand motorcycle, and it was this that helped him get away whenever he felt the world closing in on him. That feeling of being smothered had never happened on the Double J, so he’d stayed.
“That rules out taking a truck then,” Barry said. “So you’ll have to fly.”
Rory gulped. It made sense to go by air, but he’d never been in an airplane before.
Chapter 7
Barry had gotten him a ticket on the first plane out the next morning. Before finalizing the booking, he’d offered to go with Rory, but Rory had refused. Barry was needed on the Double J; things tended to go wrong when he wasn’t around. Plus, Rory had to learn to pull on his big boy pants and face this on his own.
Even though he’d have to leave the ranch at an ungodly hour in the morning to get to the airport in time for check-in, Rory was deeply humbled that everyone offered to drive him. In the end, Liam did it because he said he’d go visit his brother’s family, who lived in the city, once he’d dropped Rory off.
“You sure you got everything?” Liam asked just before pulling up in front of the airport. “Tickets, money?”
“Yes, I have, thank you,” Rory said quietly. He yawned, not having slept a wink the few hours he’d been in bed.
As soon as Liam pulled up, Rory undid his seat belt and was about to hop out the cab but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“Take care of yourself, you hear? Don’t say it often enough but you mean a lot to me, kid.”
Rory nodded, unable to speak, unused to such shows of concern and affection from the usually gruff foreman.
“If you need anything, and I mean anything, you just give one of us a call.”
“Thanks,” Rory croaked.
Liam gave Rory’s shoulder a squeeze before removing his hand. “And call us when you arrive.”
Rory nodded, opened the door, stepped out, closed the door and retrieved his borrowed suitcase from the truck bed. He watched as Liam drove off, the pickup merging into traffic. He felt very alone and more than a little scared.
Squaring his shoulders and lifting his chin, Rory turned and entered the terminal building. He looked around, unsure what to do next. He spotted an information board, found his flight number, and walked through the terminal to the correct check-in desk.
The lines were long, even at such an early hour, but Liam had gotten him to the airport in plenty of time, so he wasn’t worried about missing his plane.
His nervousness and inexperience must have shown but the middle-aged lady at the check-in desk was kind and patient. “This your first flight, young man?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She smiled. “I can usually tell. Going on vacation or…”
“No, ma’am.” He wasn’t obligated to tell her the reason for his trip but he felt alone and she seemed friendly. “My father is dying and I’m going to visit him.”
“I’m sorry.” Her sympathy seemed genuine. She nodded to herself and took back the paper she’d just handed him. “I’m going to upgrade you.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Rory blinked away the moisture gathering in his eyes. Everyone was being very understanding.
The lady told him where to go and what to expect as he made his way through the airport. “And once again, I’m sorry to hear about your father.”
“Thank you.”
* * * *
The seat belt sign went out and most people around him either loosened their belts or took them off completely. Rory, feeling like a fish out of water, undid his belt, too. The seats were comfortable and plenty wide enough for his small frame. He’d had a quick glance at the cramped seats in coach before turning left into business class, and he’d once again appreciated the check-in lady’s kindness.
The flight crew came down the aisle, serving drinks. Rory thought about getting a soda, but decided something alcoholic might help settle his nerves. Not that he had any intentions of getting drunk. He didn’t think he’d ever do that again.
“Can I get you something, sir?” the blonde flight attendant lady asked.
“Do you have beer?”
“Yes, sir, but I’m afraid I’ll have to see some ID.”
Rory smiled, got out his wallet, and slid out his driver’s license. He guessed he should have it ready each time he asked for a drink until he started looking older.
* * * *
Having finished his drink and refusing a second, Rory decided to check out the entertainment package on his seat console. But he soon found he couldn’t find anything that held his interest.
Rory then fully reclined his seat but seeing no one else had done the same, brought it upright again.
After sitting still for a few minutes, he played with the entertainment system again and found a number of games he could play against the computer. Those amused him for a while but then he saw a passenger in coach was requesting a partner to play a game of Scrabble, so he accepted the invitation.
Whether it was because of the early hour, his lack of sleep, or the stress of his first flight, “Billy the Kid” as his opponent called himself, beat Rory, although only by a narrow margin. Still, the game helped pass some time.
Chapter 8
Garry Brown was not physically large, although to the young Rory his presence was always looming and ominous. Seeing the man lying in a hospital bed—oxygen mask over his nose and mouth, skin an unhealthy yellow—he seemed small, frail, and…pathetic.
“You got a visitor, Brown,” the guard who’d escorted Rory through the prison hospital said when Garry hadn’t seemed to notice their arrival. To Rory, the guard added, “The drugs he’s on means he sleeps most of the time.”
Rory nodded and moved closer to the bed, although not too close, just in case Garry lashed out or…
Those oh-so-familiar eyes opened behind the mask. The gaze was momentarily unfocused before locking on Rory. There was recognition in those eyes and distrust, too.
“Hi,” Rory said quietly. Getting no response, he added, “It’s Rory.” No way was he going to address the man as ‘Dad’ or label himself as ‘son.’
Garry raised a bony hand and slowly took off his mask. “Why are you here?”
Rory thought that was obvious. Hadn’t they told Garry he was dying? He turned to ask the guard, or was he a nurse? But the man had left. Turning back to the bed, he said, “I got a call that you were, uh, in the hospital so…”
There was a long pause and Rory didn’t think the man was going to answer. Then he did. “See you’re still a pussy.”
Rory stopped himself from taking a step back. Instead he grew angry. “And I see you’re still a heartless bastard.” It felt freeing to talk back to his father, something he’d never dared do as a boy. The plane trip was worth it just for that experience alone.
A faint smile played across Garry’s cracked lips. “Maybe not as big a pussy as I thought.” He said between wheezes. He gestured to the chair next to his bed and Rory decided to take it.
“How are you?”
“I’m dying.”
Rory shrugged. That answered that question then. “I wouldn’t know.” Gosh, this answering back to his father was rather thrilling. “Are you in pain?”
Garry shook his head. “They pump me up with the good stuff.” He began to cough, Rory noticing there was blood mixed in with the spittle.
Spying a box of tissues on the nightstand, Rory pulled out a couple, held them out but Garry made no move to take them, so reluctantly Rory wiped his father’s face clean before discarding the tissues. “Maybe you should put the mask back on.”
Garry ignored him. “Didn’t ask you to come.”
“No, figured you wouldn’t.”
Neither man said anything for several minutes, Rory’s gaze wandered around the spartan room, Garry’s breathing continued to worsen. Rory was about to get up, call for someone or just put the mask back on himself, but Garry reached up and did it. It helped as Garry didn’t seem to have to fight as hard for every breath. His eyes closed and Rory thought he’d drifted off to sleep.
“What you doing…with your life?” Garry asked behind the mask, the sudden sound making Rory jump.
“Got a job on a ranch in Colorado.”
“Ranch?” Garry’s eyes opened and regarded Rory critically.
“I always liked the wide open spaces.”
Gasping between the words, he said, “Your brains…could’ve been a doctor, professor.”
“Lawyer?” Rory kind of, sort of regretted that, but not really.
