Chapter 11: Early Retirement

Seamus fell asleep in his car seat before Kelly got home. That made him extra fussy when we got there, and he was handed to me after she got him out of the car. For the next hour we kept putting him to bed and he kept waking up and fussing. Kelly and I talked about my father’s condition. “So, what happens next?” I asked. “This ever happen to your father?”

“Not that I’ve ever heard. Maybe he doesn’t exercise as vigorously as your father does.”

I had to laugh at that. “There are some things children just shouldn’t know about their parents! Maybe we should tell them they have to start acting their age.”

“Sure, go right ahead. Just don’t complain to me when we lose free baby-sitting services. From both sides!” Kelly’s parents were the same age as mine, and she had told me before about taking vacation trips with them as a teenager and hearing her folks getting busy through the thin walls of motel rooms.

I chuckled at that. “So, treatment?”

Kelly shrugged. She grabbed the brochures and looked through them. “According to this, exercise and physical therapy.”

“Dad? Exercise?” I laughed loudly at that.

“He’s probably going to have to go on a diet, too,” she replied showing me some ‘heart-healthy’ options on one of the brochures.

“At Thanksgiving? I think he’d prefer the heart attack!”

Kelly smiled and nodded. “Don’t forget Christmas, New Year’s, and the Super Bowl. By springtime he’ll be a lean and mean cardio machine!”

“I’ll believe that when I see it. By the way, you need to talk to my mom,” I replied.

“About Thanksgiving?”

I grinned at her. “No, about their exercise program! We need to find out just what they were doing that wore Dad out!”

“GRIM!”

“Hey, I’m still young! Maybe my heart can take it!”

Kelly squawked at that, and I ended up chasing her down the hallway to the bedroom. I’m not sure what my father was doing wrong (or right, for that matter) but the practice seemed like an excellent cardio workout. Attendance at Jupiter’s Gym would go up significantly if it was added to the options.

Tuesday was quiet, cardio-wise. The kids ended up with Kelly’s parents after school. Dad was released and sent home mid-afternoon. I dropped by on my way home and found him sitting in his recliner. Mom was hovering around him, which was driving him nuts. “Maureen, you are driving me crazy! I am not going to die in the next fifteen minutes, so go sit down!”

“Jack, don’t you start with me!”

Dad looked over at me and picked up his glass. “Iced tea, unsweetened. I can’t even have a beer until after my first meeting with the cardiologist.” He grimaced.

I had to smile at him. Dad had probably had a single beer every day after getting home from work for the last thirty years. “Probably the soberest you’ve been this century.”

“Certainly, the soberest since you three came along!” He held his right hand up and extended his middle finger.

“I’m out of here. I never knew heart attacks made people grumpy.” I stood up and gave Mom a hug. “You need to work on his grumpiness. Or did pushups get put on hold for a while, too?”

“Grim!” she protested.

“Smartass kid!” added Dad.

“Kelly and I have to go over to the apartment tomorrow and make sure it’s clean. Bobbie Joe and Joanne are staying there, I gather. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Jack and Teresa and the boys should be here in time for dinner tomorrow.”

I nodded. “That’s what Kelly said. I’m off Thursday, but I have to make it up Friday and Saturday.” I left after giving Dad some more unwanted advice.

Wednesday, I grabbed a sub at lunchtime and went out-of-service at the apartment, where I checked it out and did a quick dusting and vacuum. That apartment had been one of the best investments Grandpa and Grandma had ever made. Not only had I stayed there while I was on leave in the service, as well as before we built the house, but both of my brothers and my Matucket cousins had stayed there at times after high school. (I didn’t want to think about my parents and Uncle Dave and Aunt Laurie using it back when they were in college. That seemed like one of those no-go topics.) Use of the apartment was paid for with gardening chores; we also had to keep the apartment clean. Last year I spent a long weekend with my cousins repainting the place and redoing the floors.

Kelly texted me at work that afternoon, saying that Jack and crew had flown in and would meet us at Mom and Dad’s for dinner. She was going over after class, and I was to follow at the end of shift. After checking in with the night watch commander, I took a quick shower and changed into civvies. Everything else went into my duffel bags to be sorted and cleaned at the house.

I parked outside the house and saw Kelly’s Sienna and Jack and Teresa’s Town and Country. My brother and his family still lived in San Francisco, but being a multimillionaire was a good thing. They had bought a farmhouse with some acreage and a swimming pool north of West Springs, and they used that as their local house. The minivan was kept there for when they visited. I drove by it on patrol once a week, just to keep an eye on the place. I walked up the walk and let myself in.

“Oh no! It’s Tio Grim! Run for your lives!” said a familiar high-pitched voice. I just rolled my eyes as Jack’s oldest boy, Diego John, got the others to start laughing and running around the living room. He was followed by Riley and Miguel Robert, with Seamus chasing them around. All four were squealing and laughing loudly.

I rolled my eyes and looked over at Teresa. “Run for your lives?”

“They heard that on an old movie last week.” She came over and kissed my cheek. “Good to see you, Grim. Can we get you a drink?”

“As long as it’s not one of Dad’s non-alcoholic drinks.”

“Ha ha!” sounded from the recliner.

“Hey, Dad, how you feeling?”

“Too damn sober!”

I shrugged and went into the kitchen, where I kissed Kelly and hugged Mom. “I gather we are all drinking and making Dad feel extra miserable?” I saw Mom had something cooking in a Crockpot and lifted the lid; dinner would be pot roast with all the fixings. Yum!

“You are an awful child,” said my mother.

“Probably poor parenting,” I replied. Kelly just smacked me for that.

“Dinner in half an hour. It’s getting late for little ones,” said my mother.

I nodded and made a couple of seven-and-sevens and carried them into the living room. I gave one to Dad and said, “How you deal with Mom is your problem.”

“Thanks, Grim.” He sipped it and smiled, and then smiled at Mom when she came out and gave us both a disapproving look.

I took my drink and went downstairs to find Jack in the family room. Jack was laying back in an armchair, his feet up on an ottoman, with Gomer in his lap. Gomer was my folks’ latest dog, a basset-beagle mix that combined the finest traits of both breeds – incredible laziness and unbelievable stupidity! “Hey, Grim! Good to see you! I’d get up but I’m kind of busy.” Gomer was laying on his back, a look of utter pleasure on his canine face as Jack rubbed his belly.

I laughed and went over to him. “Welcome home.” I stuck my hand out and Jack stopped belly-rubbing long enough to shake it, then returned to Gomer.

“Idiot dog,” he commented. “Unfortunately, for Gomer at least, I can’t rub with one hand while shaking with the other.”

I nodded at that. “Yeah, I get it. You look like shit, bro. How bad is it?”

Jack was really messed up. The Raiders and the Dolphins had played in Miami two weeks ago, and Jack managed to sack the Dolphins quarterback, Jay Cutler, in the second quarter. Cutler coughed up the ball and Jack got the recovery, but in so doing managed to get the entire Dolphins offensive line to run over his left arm in the process. He had been in a cast for two weeks, and his season was over.

“Pretty bad, Grim. Ever see that Harry Potter movie where the idiot teacher tries to fix a broken bone and instead makes the bone disappear? That’s about what I have. The bones that aren’t broken were pulverized.” I snorted in amusement at that, and Jack pushed Gomer off his lap. “Go bug the kids, Gomer. I need a drink.” Gomer headed up the stairs and Jack picked up his own drink and sipped it.

“So, you’re out for the season?” I asked. That was what Jack had told us after the game.

“Grim, I’m out for good.”

My eyes popped open at that. Jack’s first contract had been for $30 million for five years, which started in 2009 and finished in 2014. After that he had signed a new contract for another four years for another $35 million. This year was the end of that contract, and the last I had heard, Jack’s agent was negotiating a two-year extension. Conservatively, two more years was probably good for another $15 to $20 mill. That was some pretty serious coin!