“That so? And how old was your dad when he succumbed?” Sully asked.
“As close as we can figure out, he was in his early twenties. But he had some symptoms he and everyone around him tried to ignore. Like he was... Well, he was brilliant. I think under his schizophrenia he’s still brilliant. It’s just all twisted up.”
“Your brother seems pretty smart. Is it possible those two things aren’t really connected?”
“Huh?” she asked.
“The smart and the crazy?” Sully asked.
She just shrugged. She’d asked herself that a lot. Because it was horrible to be afraid of intelligence, especially one’s own intelligence.
“I got the feeling they aren’t the same thing—smart and crazy. There’s some autistic kids from a group home come around in the summer. Not a one of ’em could pass an IQ test of any kind and some of ’em are just downright brilliant. You know? Memories like steel traps, math skills you wouldn’t believe, musical talents that knock me over. They’re a hoot, you should know ’em.”
“Do you know them?” she asked.
“Some,” he said. “I get on with the autistic kids just fine. That’s probably because I ain’t all that smart to start with but I have a talent or two. Not like them, that’s for sure. We open the grounds up to some youth groups now and then. You just don’t know how trapped they feel till you see ’em on the trails or in the lake—they cut loose.” Then he grinned in a way that showed the pure joy in him.
And Sierra fell in love. Right then.
“Who told you you weren’t all that smart?” she asked him.
The smile stayed. “Girl, no one had to tell me. More coffee?”
“No, this is good enough. I don’t want to get the wiggles. Listen, about that cabin...”
“It’s all cleaned up and ready for you,” he said. “I knew you’d come around. Besides, I think this place helps.”
“Helps what?”
He looked reluctant to answer. “I don’t know—helps what ails you. I see it happen all the time and people need all different things. Your brother, for example. I had no idea what he needed but he hung around, made himself useful now and again even before I needed a hand. And eventually he stole my daughter right out from under my nose. It worked for me, way back when I came home after the war. Course it took a while before I managed to get what I needed. I wasn’t that much older than you.”
“Oh? I’d love to hear about that,” she said.
“Well, I think it’s boring to everyone but me. I’ll tell you one or two things if you’ll eat a sticky bun.”
“Deal,” she said, smiling.
“Let me fetch one and put it in the microwave,” he said. “It’s better warm.”
He took a moment to do that. Then he took her cup away and refilled it anyway, bringing the coffee and pastry to her.
“My grandpa built this place. He left it to my dad. My dad planned to leave it to me. I didn’t have much interest in it, to be honest. I had bigger plans. But my dad needed me home, I could see that. My mother died while I was in Vietnam and the Red Cross got me home for that but it wasn’t till I was in my thirties that I found a wife and brought her back here. But she was a terrible wife and I was an even worse husband. In spite of that, we had Maggie. It took six years before my wife got fed up and left me.” He raised a thick, graying eyebrow. “Bored yet?”
She licked icing off her fingers and shook her head.
“She took Maggie. I’m the first to admit I was crap for a father. I sulked, yelled, wandered off without a word sometimes, argued over anything, didn’t know beans about school lessons or homework, had no patience, drank too much whenever I got irritated and I got irritated pretty often. I had a tone of voice, I’m told, that would scare bears off. I treated my dogs better than my family and it made no sense because I loved my family. Well...well, the truth is, I didn’t love Phoebe all that much after the first few months. But then, she didn’t love me much, either. We were wrong for each other from the start. I brood while she fusses. She needles and I yell. Then I sat out here in the store and drank until she was asleep.
“But I loved Maggie and I wanted to do right by her. So I had to start my life over. I reckon you have some experience with that, eh?”
Sierra nodded and licked the sweet icing off her lips. “How’d you do it?”
“The hard way. I fished a lot, worked till I dropped, suffered in silence, forced myself to do things I had no use for like making a bed and washing clothes. It was one thing to keep up the grounds for the customers—even I wasn’t too stupid to know I needed money to eat. But taking care of myself? Cleaning my own surroundings? That took willpower. It was a pretty horrible process. But there were some things I had to do if I’d ever have my family back.” He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “I wasn’t too keen on having Phoebe back. Jesus, that woman’s the biggest pain in the ass. But I thought maybe if there was a God she’d get hit by a bus or something and Maggie would come back. I was bound to be ready if that happened. I tried to read.” He laughed at himself. “I was never gonna be as smart as Maggie or even that damn Phoebe but I was determined not to be a complete dunce.” He took a drink of his coffee. “I hung up the beer mug. No fanfare, no meetings, no bugles or drumroll. Just retired the mug.”
She swallowed. “Are you a friend of Bill W.’s?”
“How’s that?” Sully asked.
“Are you an alcoholic?”
“Hell if I know,” he said. “It probably depends on who you ask. I didn’t have a thing to drink for years, then I had a beer on a hot day and old Frank, he said I was a damn fool to even think about it. When I was a younger man I drank too much now and then...more than now and then. I was certainly headed for trouble. It was only a matter of time and I knew it. Nowadays I have limits. What I learned—what I wanted to tell you about—I learned I didn’t have to go through all the agony I went through, and I’m not talking about liquor.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked. What she wanted to ask was, “What does this have to do with me?”
“I didn’t have to do it all alone,” he said. “No matter who reached out to me, offered a hand, pulled up a chair to talk a spell, I froze ’em out and went my own way. It was every bit as terrible as I hoped it would be. I wanted to suffer, I guess.”
“But you and Maggie are together now...”
“It took a few years before I was in good enough shape to see her, to take care of her. She’s still pissed about that, by the way.” Then he laughed. “She’s a pistol. I guess she comes by it naturally. According to Maggie I didn’t fight for her. What she’d want with a father like me, I have no idea. But by the time Phoebe let her come to visit I’d laid most of my ghosts to rest.”