Gone Away by Elizabeth Noble Read Free Book Online

passive/aggressive about the man.
    Their drive was quiet, but pleasant. They were comfortable together despite their hiatus from one another. There was almost no one Riece knew—or had ever known—who he could say he was this relaxed with other than Mason, and he was pleased Mason’s feelings seemed on the same track.
    The care facility where Mason’s father lived was a single-story structure with several different wings off a central area that housed offices, a cafeteria, and a common sitting area complete with a big-screen television, piano, and pool table.
    “His room’s down this way.” Mason motioned to a corridor after they’d signed in at the front desk, exchanged a few pleasantries with the duty nurses, and received a report from them. “Don’t get offended by anything he says.”
    “Don’t worry. You act as if I’ve never met him before,” Riece reminded Mason with a grin. He’d known the man as Mac. It was short for something, but Riece had never learned what. He wasn’t sure Mason knew. Compared to his father, Mason was warm and fuzzy.
    Mason knocked on the door and opened it at the same time. “Hi, Dad,” he said.
    The man Riece remembered was not the one he saw now. He’d met Mason’s father a few times when Mac had been in the area of the college they’d both attended. Mac was a nice-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair and dark eyes, a stark contrast to Mason’s deep blue eyes. Riece didn’t know what First Nations tribe Mac called home, but his ancestry was more prominent. In Mason’s case his French-Canadian heritage blended equally with his Indian half. They had—or at least once had—the same midnight-dark hair, and though Mac was a few inches shorter than his son, he was just as powerfully built.
    Now Mac Arquette was wheelchair bound and hunched. He’d lost a lot of weight; his arms and neck were too thin, with folds of skin hanging from his frame. His once lush hair was now thin and limp. He looked frail and helpless.
    “I’ve been sitting here all day.” Mac’s voice was raspy.
    “I’m sorry,” Mason said gently. “I had to work, but the nurses said you’ve been outside for a while every day and you enjoyed sitting with the residents during meals.” Mason knelt next to the wheelchair and rested his hands on the armrest, nodding at Riece. “Dad, you remember Riece Burrell? He went to the same college I did when I was studying for my masters.”
    Mac leaned forward and peered at Riece. “You’re the little twit who broke my son’s heart.”
    “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t want….” Riece looked at Mason, a little horrified.
    Mason twisted around, standing at the same time. “Dad, Riece came to see you with me. He’s our guest.” He moved around to the back of the wheelchair. “Do you want to take a walk?”
    “I can’t walk, you damn fool. I’m thirsty,” Mac said.
    Mason took hold of the wheelchair handles. “Well, I can walk and push your chair, so let’s get out of here for a bit. We can go to the cafeteria and get something to drink,” he said and smiled. He looked down for a few seconds before scratching at his neck and glancing at Riece, mouthing the word “Sorry.”
    Riece walked along beside Mason as they navigated the corridors back to the cafeteria. After they settled at one of the tables with their drinks, Riece sat holding his plastic cup in both hands, staring into the liquid while Mason tried to talk to his father. It was amazing that Mason could change subjects and keep talking to his father even though Mac didn’t seem to manage to stick with one thought for more than a minute or two. It struck him that Mason showed the same patience and understanding with his father he’d always demonstrated with Riece.
    “I’m sorry,” Riece blurted out. Mason and Mac stopped their offbeat conversation and turned to him.
    “Riece, don’t be—” Mason began.
    Riece cut him off. “No, your dad is right.” He folded his hands on the table in