Chat - Archer Mayor [19]
Leo nodded quietly, taking his time. Joe noticed a tear building up in the corner of one of his brother’s eyes. He reached out and wiped it away.
“I don’t know,” Leo said, so softly his words were almost lost in the whir of the surrounding equipment.
Joe leaned over to be near his face when he whispered. “Leo, you’ve got to do this. It’s not like I have any spare brothers, and Mom’ll make my life hell if you kick the bucket. Stop thinking of yourself, for Christ’s sake.”
Leo smiled slowly. “You are a son of a bitch.”
Joe kissed his bristly cheek. “I love you, too.”
His brother sighed and gave a halfhearted nod. “Okay. What about the car?”
“The nut on the tie rod went,” Joe said, hoping that made sense.
Leo’s eyes widened. “No shit? How the hell would that happen?”
“You had it serviced lately?”
“Yeah, but not for that. It’s too new. The tie rod ends should be factory fresh.”
“You bring it to Steve’s, right?” Joe asked. “Exclusively?”
His brother nodded, beginning to fade.
“You ever have problems with them?”
Leo didn’t respond immediately. Joe bent close again, not wanting to miss his chance. “Leo?”
“No problems,” Leo mumbled.
Joe straightened back up. That would have to be it. He placed his palm flat on Leo’s forehead and told him, “Hang in there. Mom’s fine. That part’s over. But we need you back, okay?”
He thought he could feel his brother nod agreement under his hand, but it was too slight a gesture to trust.
Their mother was discharged later that day. Joe had remembered to salvage her wheelchair from the trunk of the shattered Subaru, and used it to roll her out of the hospital and into the cold New England sunlight. As they cleared the overhang of the main entrance portico, she tilted her head back and let the sun hit her full in the face.
“God, that feels good.”
Joe was relieved by the gesture. She’d refused to leave without first visiting Leo, and the sight of her last born, rigged up like a science experiment, had clearly shaken her. But she’d spoken to his physician in detail and had been told of a probable, though long-term, full recovery. Joe hoped that had helped with the worst of her concerns. But he wasn’t sure. She hadn’t spoken until hitting the sidewalk—she was, after all, of hard-core Yankee stock, a people who were not cold, as was their weather and their reputation, but who were indeed prone to self-containment. By instinct, people bred and brought up among these ancient mountains didn’t speak of their feelings and didn’t pry after those of others. For that matter, he hadn’t asked her outright himself.
She worked at being upbeat during the drive home, insisting on stopping by the market to pick up a few things she thought he’d enjoy, and chatting about everything but the accident and her broken son. Joe let her find her emotional bearings, which, he sensed, would only really fall into place once they reached home. He therefore wasn’t surprised when she quieted as he topped the same rise in the driveway that had similarly affected him the day before. He did, however, reach out as he stopped the car before the house, and squeeze her hand.
“He’ll be fine, Mom. We’ll see him through it.”
She turned to him then, her eyes glistening. “He wouldn’t be there now if he hadn’t taken me to the movies.”
Joe actually laughed as he leaned over and kissed her. “You probably saved his life. He would’ve been driving at twice the speed with some bimbo in one of his favorite wrecks. Tell me I’m wrong.”
She smiled despite her sadness. “He doesn’t carry on as much as he claims. But I suppose you’re right.”
Joe hadn’t told her about the missing tie rod nut.
They spent much of the day getting used to each other. Joe hadn’t been at home without Leo in more years than he could recall, and he had a hard time gauging between too much together time with his mother and too little. She and Leo were like