Chapter 44
Ron saw George’s car parked in front of the house and let himself in with his key. He found George standing in the bathroom shaving. He had a suit laid out and had just taken a shower.
George came out of the bathroom with shaving cream still on his face. He saw Ron and said, “Oh… How’s your mother?”
“You really are a miserable piece of shit aren’t you,” said Ron.
“Don’t start with me, Ronald.”
“Don’t start with you?” Ron moved towards him. “Don’t start with you? My mother is lying in the cardiac care unit and you really don’t give a fuck at all, do you?”
George went back into the bathroom. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“You coldhearted, worthless fuck. The doctor isn’t even sure that she is gonna live!”
George stopped shaving. “I didn’t know it was that serious.”
Ron sprang for him and George backed into the bathroom and shut the door. Ron pounded against it. He beat his fists on it. “You were a worthless piece of shit when she met you. If it hadn’t been for her, you’d still be in debt to the goddamned bookies. She should have let one of them put a fucking bullet in you instead of paying off your gambling debts.”
George snarled and threw the door open. He shoved Ron back against the kitchen table. Ron picked a chair and swung it at him. George held up his arm and screamed as it hit him. And then he went into his pocket and pulled out a knife. Ron stopped and stared at it. Then he scrambled towards the kitchen drawer and George yelled. “Open that drawer and I’ll put this right in your back.”
Ron whirled on him and saw that George had moved after him. He stared at the blade of the knife and then into George’s face. It was bloated red with rage. His arm and face were bleeding from where the chair had caught him.
“Just go out and fuck your whore, you pitiful excuse for a man.”
“Get the hell out of here right now, before I lose my temper,” said George. “Go on. Get out! And leave your key.”
“Fuck you,” said Ron. “It’s my mother’s house. You never would have been able to get it without her and you left.”
“Get out,” snarled George.
Ron was breathing hard when he got back into his car. He knew that he was enraged when he went there, but the level of his own violence surprised him. He drove across Ridgewood Avenue and turned down Bay Street and then onto the street where his father lived. The street looked unfamiliar in some way and then Ron realized that it had been made a one way. He parked in front of his father’s house, went to the door and rang the bell. He was nervous. He was always on edge between the times that he rang that bell and the time that the door opened .He was not sure that he understood why. Because he had not been around his father. He did not know what kind of car that he drove or whether he was home. There was a car parked in the driveway, but it looked too old to be something that his father would be driving.
Harry Tuck smiled when he saw his son standing on the porch. Maybe the visit to Marjorie’s house had been worthwhile. Ron did not return the smile. He held out his hand and realized for the first time that his knuckles were bleeding. Harry shook his hand without mentioning the blood.
“Dad, I know that I should have called first, but I really needed to see you.”
“You don’t have to call,” said Harry. Then he looked over his shoulder and said, “Betty look whose here.”
Betty Tuck gave Ron a look that he knew was her attempt at a smile but it came onto her face like a grimace. “Hello Ronald. Come on in. Would you like some coffee?”
“Maybe some other time,” said Ron. He wanted to be polite, but he did not want a social gathering and he needed to talk to his father alone.
“Alrighty,” she said.
Harry was a clever man and he knew that his son had been raised to be polite. It worried him that he has refused the cup of coffee. “Why don’t we go out onto the back porch?” he said.
Betty made herself scarce. She went down into the basement to fold clothes that had just come out of the dryer. She figured that Ron needed money and she hoped that it wasn’t a lot because the truth was that things were pretty tight with them right now.
When they settled on the back porch, Ron said, “My mother’s had a heart attack. She’s at Mountainside Hospital.”
“Holy Shit,” said Harry. “When did that happen?”
“Today,” said Ron. “I just left her. She is the cardiac Care Unit.”
“What are they saying?”
“The doctor said that he won’t really know if she is out of the woods until tomorrow or the next day. He called it a myocardial infarction. I don’t know what that means.”
“Me either, “said Harry.
“Dad, George left her. He is moving out to live with some woman.”
Harry was only really surprised that it had taken this long. He knew how difficult living with Marjorie was. Her phobias, her drive, her desire to always have more were not the kind of traits that a man usually signed on for. He shook his head. “I just don’t know what to say, Ronald.”
“I need a favor,” said Ron. He looked into his father’s eyes. “You know the kind of effect that you have on her. You always make her feel like a woman.”
“I don’t know about that,” said Harry. “You’re mother and I go back a long ways and it’s been a very long time since there was anything like that between us.”
“I do know about that,” said Ron. “She’s scared and she looks lost and she needs me, I understand that, but it would help me and her if you could drop in to see her while she is there. Let her know that one of the men in her life cares about her.”
“George might think that’s pretty strange,” said Harry.
“George doesn’t give a shit, Dad. He wasn’t even going up there to see her.”
Harry gestured. “Is that what happened to your hand?”
Ron brought the knuckles to his mouth and sucked them. “Yeah, I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”
Harry scanned his son’s face and was quietly pleased to see that there were no marks on him. “I’ll get there tomorrow. But let’s keep this between us.”
Ron nodded. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”
Harry let him out the back door and Ron hurried to the car, not wanting to see his brother or his sister right now.
Ron stopped to get a pizza on the way home and thought about what he still had to do. He wasn’t sure how to call in sick. He had never done it before. He hadn’t paid enough attention to it when he got the stacks of papers that they handed out on opening day, but he knew where he kept the papers.
Eating a slice of pizza, sitting on his bed, Ron dialed the convent. It was almost 9 o’clock in the evening and he had debated whether or not it was too late.
On the fourth ring, a hushed voice said, “Hello.”
Ron was taken aback. He thought that there would be some kind of official greeting, some way that was all their own that nuns answered the phone. “May I speak to Sister Irene Emanuel?” he said.
The voice took an immediate tone. ‘And who shall I say is calling her at this hour?”
“My name is Ron Tuck. I’m a teacher at the high school.”
“At this high school?”
Ron thought, why do they keep asking me that? Then he said, “Yes Sister.”
The tone continued. “Just a moment, I’ll see if she is still awake.”
Two or three long moments passed. Ron finished his first slice and bit into another. Then he heard Irene Emanuel’s unmistakable voice. ‘How can I help you, Mr. Tuck?”
“Sister, I’m sorry to disturb you. I think that I lost track of time.”
“Yes.”
Ron waited for her to say more but there was just silence. ‘I won’t be coming in tomorrow, Sister.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“My mother, Sister she’s had a heart attack. I’m going to have to be at the hospital.”
Then the tone changed immediately. “Ron, I’m so sorry. Is there anything that we can do?”
“No Sister, I’m sorry for calling so late. If you could just remember her in your prayers,” he blurted. He wasn’t even sure where that had come from.
“Of course we will Ron, and if there is anything else that you need us to do, please don’t hesitate to call.”