I laugh, “Bullshit,” knowing that’s not true. “What the fuck are you doing on your ass, not showered at eleven on a Tuesday?”
“Flu.”
My eyebrows go up as I mutter, “Ew,” passing the contamination for the kitchen.
Nathan calls after me, “Give me a kiss, Nicholas!”
“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” Nobody in here, and it’s raining out, so there’s only two places to look, and the garage door was closed when I drove up.
Nathan reaches for me as I pass him, ala zombie. “I want to show you how much I love you!”
“Sure you do,” I laugh, calling upstairs, “Dad, where you at?”
His deep voice bellows, “In the office, come on up!”
I don’t want to bother my father with this if he’s as sick as Nathan looks. Or maybe I’m just postponing the talk. “Dad sick, too, Nate?”
He mischievously grins, “Not yet.”
I stroll up the stairs, see the doors open to our old bedrooms, now turned to guest rooms plus work-out equipment. One has a screen to stream Tai Chi lessons for Mom and Dad to practice.
In the office, my father glances up from a book he’s reading in an easy chair by the window. He sets it down and I see it’s about World War II. “Nicholas,” he smiles, rising up to give me a hug, smacking my back while I do the same to his. “Lookin’ good. Unlike your brother.”
“Quarantine him.”
“I’ve got the immune system of ten men,” Dad cockily smirks, sitting back down.
I sit on the high-backed office chair opposite my father. “I meant for his mind. Whatever he’s got, you don’t want to catch.”
Chuckling, Dad brings a knee up, throws his arm on it. “Your mother would agree with you. She’s pretty upset about this new plan of his to become a firefighter. I think she was relieved when none of you joined the Armed Forces.”
Jogging my chin to the book, I ask, “What are you reading there?”
“My grandfather Jerald, as you know, was in that war.” Dad picks up the book, turns it over and concentrates on the back image of troops running across a field, shrouded in smoke. He sets it back down. “I guess I just wanted to know what it was like for him.”
He meets my eyes, his thoughtful.
Jeremy Cocker is a man’s man—his emotions don’t show often. He likes to say he keeps his dogs on a short leash. It taught us boys to be tougher. We wanted to emulate him.
When someone shows little emotion you get used to deciphering subtleties. They become more apparent, magnified.
I can read him almost as well as I can read my mother, and Meagan Cocker wears her heart on her sleeve with us kids. She openly loves us with tons of affection.
Dad’s love is expressed in the ways he shows up. Since they owned a couple of restaurants, partnered with some trusted friends, he was able to be at every game, cheering loudly from the sidelines. He’s the one who took me to New York to the actual Stock Exchange on Wall Street when I was sixteen, even though he doesn’t like big cities. When Zoe’s date got the chicken pox the day of Junior Prom, Dad borrowed a tux from Uncle Jake and went with her.
“Dad, I always wanted to ask, are you disappointed we never joined up?”
He shakes his head, staring out the window.
Unconvinced, I ask, “You sure?”
After a pause he meets my eyes. “If you’d have joined, I would have been very proud. But not more proud than I already am. But between you and I, your mother wouldn’t have been able to handle it. When she lost her brother Devin…”
“Right,” I frown. I know the story—we all do. I was even named after him, my middle name is his. “That why she’s upset about Nathan?”
“That and the money. Yale isn’t cheap,” he smirks, then rubs his face. “I’m kidding, it’s because of Devin. Your brother Wyatt already decided to put himself in harm’s way, carrying a gun every damn day, going after criminals.” Dad runs his hand through salt-and-pepper hair. “But fires are a whole other thing, aren’t they,” he exhales, glancing to the book again. It wasn’t a question. Meeting my eyes, he lowers his voice. “I’m proud as hell of him. Don’t tell her.”
Mom says, “I heard that,” poking her head in.
Dad reacts, smiles and waves her over. “Come sit on my lap.”
“Don’t have to ask me twice.” She gives me a hug first. “Hi baby. You look so handsome today.”
“Hey Mom. I like your hair.”
“Yeah?” She touches the shoulder-length layers, dyed red at the ends. “I thought I’d try something different. Saw Max’s girlfriend at Christmas and I’ve been itching to try it ever since.” Climbing onto Dad’s lap, he adjusts the easy-chair so they’re better balanced. “Hello, Jeremy. I’m proud of him, too, but I just…lawyers are safer.”
“Safe is for pussies,” he grins at her, but his eyes hold emotions in them.
She kisses him. “I know, you never believed in safe.” They look at each other with love, like I’m not here—totally normal for them.
But today it makes me rub my face and kick the floor with my heel a couple times. The unconsciously loud exhale combined with these two gestures gets both of my parents’ attention.
“Nicholas?” Mom asks, “Something on your mind?”
Glancing up in surprise—I didn’t know I was doing all that—I shrug, “Just thinking.”
“About?”
I lock eyes with Dad and he flicks a glance to Mom, saying, “Nicholas asked to speak to me today.”
“Oh!” She starts to get up. “Did you want me to go?”
Sending her away doesn’t sit right, so I hurriedly say, “No, stay. I can talk to both of you. But don’t judge me too harshly.” She frowns, getting comfortable on Dad’s lap, both waiting as I take a couple deep breaths, staring at my lap before I launch in. “Wanted to
