Twenty minutes later, he admitted the entire heating system had shut down.
A winter storm was coming.
I told him I was driving over.
He told me not to.
So naturally I did.
When I arrived, the house was already cold.
Dad had packed one duffel bag and insisted he would stay at a motel until the repair company could get there.
I refused.
He complained for forty minutes.
Then he climbed into my car.
Because I lived three states away, my visit had already been planned for later that month.
I had flown in for work nearby and rented a car.
After the furnace problem, I changed the plan and brought Dad back with me for a few days.
Vanessa knew none of that.
Apparently neither did Grant.
Dad had not told them because, in his words, he did not need committee approval every time he spent a weekend with one of his children.
Now that small decision had exposed something neither of us understood.
At 7:04, Dad called Harold.
He put the phone on speaker.
Harold answered sounding half asleep.
“If you’re calling about fishing, it is freezing outside and you’ve lost your mind.”
Dad looked at me.
“You find my body last night?”
There was a long pause.
