The Push: A Sequel to The Pull Read Free Page B

house. I grabbed my bags and paid the driver. This is where Darin and I grew up. My parents had had us late in life. They were in their late 70s right now but still managed this property on their own. I glanced over at the empty barn that reached the edge of the field. Vines crawled up its sides and the grass needed mowing. I supposed my dad hadn’t tried to hire a teenager or someone to come over and do some of the trimming. No, he’d be too proud to do something like that.
    I walked up the front steps, my luggage dragging behind me. I swung open the creaky screen door and stepped inside. The smell of cooking beef entered my nostrils. I put down the bags and took a deep breath.
    “Anyone home?” I shouted.
    My mother appeared, walking slowly toward me. She had gained even more weight since the last time I’d seen her. Her frizzy white hair was pulled tightly back into a bun. She smiled and reached her arms out to me. I hugged her back.
    “Did you have a good flight, Shane?” she asked.
    “Yeah. It was fine.” She smelled of lemons. “Where’s Dad? Is he ready?”
    “He’s in the living room trying to get his shoes on. He’s having a hard time. His back’s been bothering him a lot lately,” she explained.
    I moved past her and through a little archway that led to a small, open room. The television was on with the volume turned down, and there sat my dad on the flowered sofa, bent over trying to tie his shoes but failing miserably. My heart sank a little at the pathetic scene before me. My dad looked rough—really rough. Had I really been gone so long that I hadn’t noticed how poorly my parents were doing?
    “Here, let me get it,” I told him, bending down on one knee to tie his shoes. “Maybe you should invest in some Velcro so you don’t have to mess with laces,” I suggested.
    My dad grunted. “Velcro? That’s for old people.” Then he cracked a grin.
    I rolled my eyes and helped him to his feet.
    “Grab that cane over there for me, son,” he said, pointing to the floor where the thing had fallen over.
    I handed it to him. “Ready?” We were a little over an hour and a half from the hospital where Darin was. I’d called my parents on my way to the airport in California and informed them of the situation, as much as I could from what Livvy had given me. I then had to figure out which hospital he was in and had tried to call Livvy a few times, but she hadn’t answered. I assumed she was resting, so I’d let her alone. After making a few phone calls, I figured it out and had gotten an address. My mother asked me to stay with them instead of getting a hotel. I knew it was going to be tough commuting from their house to the hospital all the time, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her no. I wasn’t home all that often and usually for a holiday once a year if that. The connection I had with my parents had fallen off the grid some time ago. They’d given me and Darin what they could and had no arguments about my moving to California after college. They had never come to visit either. Airplanes scared them. New places scared them. They were just old-fashioned, I guess you could say. I think it’s more of my father’s thinking than my mother’s. I figured I owed it to her to spend some time back on the old farm, though it wasn’t functioning anymore. Maybe I could clean up some of the weeds and do some work around the place if I had the time.
    “Are we taking the old Chrysler?” I asked, seeing the golden-colored car parked in the driveway beside the house. “Does it even run anymore?”
    “Of course it does,” my dad replied, walking toward the ancient vehicle.
    I raised my eyebrows. “Okay then. Where’s the keys? I’m driving.”
    “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to make this drive,” my dad said, opening the back door and sinking into the seat as he pulled his cane across him.
    “Why do you say that?” I asked, helping my mother into the passenger side.
    She sighed.