By now at 6 pm, the last of the pharmacy's customers are waiting for their prescriptions. Darkness has fallen and it is a very cold and rainy night. Closing duties are underway as one register is reconciled while the other is left open till closing. Dad will be occasionally looking at his watch as time ticks by headed for 7 pm and closing time. His latest duty at closing is to file all the prescriptions by customer's last names in their alphabetic boxes. Craig will backup the computer database.
Dad will then tell Craig, the new owner, goodbye as Craig locks the door and my father walks to his car. He will get in, crank it, and head to Charlie's house in West Point for supper which is across that grand river, the Chattahoochee river. Janice will have a delicious homemade Southern-style meal prepared and they will all catch up on their days. There will be lots of laughter and Charlie will bitch some, too.
"Well, I better go get Andrew situated," I can imagine him saying as he gets up from the table to leave -- thanking Janice for the gracious meal.
Sometimes I will call him to see how far along in this process he is, but it makes him grumble with displeasure. He says he doesn't want my mother and I keeping tabs on him.
Maggie and I will be sitting on the couch as he turns at the corner down the street. I am usually fiddling with my iPad. The sound and look of his car are unmistakable. He usually arrives right around 9 pm. 12 hours and 30 minutes after he left his house this morning to start his day.
"Papa's here!" I will exclaim as Maggie goes nuts and double checks out the window as I have cried wolf before. I go open the door with the screened-in door shut so Maggie can see and bark as Papa crosses the yard. Papa will usually bark back much to Maggie's delight. She will give him a grand welcome home salute because her home is his home.
"How was your day, Chuck?" he will ask me as we sit on the couch and Maggie vies for his attention.
Most days I can say that I had a great day like I can today. That's what he wants to hear and I get great pleasure out of saying it.
I get a soda out of the fridge and we take my medications. I get a big handful and gulp them down quickly. Sometimes, my father will want to look in my mouth. Years ago, I got caught saving up Klonopin by moving them inside my cheek with my tongue. I would spit them back out and put them in a pill bottle. With about 10 saved up, you can get quite a nice buzz and sleep like a baby.
Lastly comes Maggie's ritual as we walk through my kitchen to the laundry room on the back of the house. Dad pours her a cup of Purina One in a fresh paper bowl and I wash out and fill Maggie's ceramic water dish. Maggie looks on very intently briskly wagging her tail.
"Y'all have a good night!" dad always says as he grabs the medications and leaves.
Many nights he will forget the medications and I have to call him for him to come back and get them. He always appreciates my honesty. I will run them out to his car.
2 comments:
I I think Johnny is a saint. You are lucky to have him. :-) this is mark hood, btw.
Does your mother eat alone every night? Doesn't she wonder why your fathers not eating at home..
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