Ridgway Blues - Installment #5

Molly opens the front door to her house and enters a historic home built in 1814. The doorway is low, as are the ceilings in the home. The floors are the original, wide-planked poplar flooring. Children can be heard yelling at one another upstairs, a small dachshund dog begins to bark, and a TV is blaring in the family room. Molly hangs her purse and car keys on a peg by the front door and places a black briefcase on the dry sink in the foyer. She walks into the adjoining family room where her 16-year-old daughter, Claire, is sitting on the couch watching TV.

Pointing toward the television, Molly says, “Please turn that down.” Molly picks up a stack of mail laying on the fireplace mantel and asks her daughter, “Where's your father?”

Claire shrugs her shoulders and replies, “I don't know.”

Molly walks from the family room, through the dining room and into the kitchen where she finds Willow, her 12-year-old daughter, who is sitting at the kitchen table eating an apple.

“I’ll start dinner in a few minutes. Could you set the table please? And where's your dad?”

“Where do you think he is?”

“Willow, if I knew where your father was, I wouldn't be asking.”

Chewing her apple, Willow responds, “He's where he always is, out in the garage.”

Molly asks, “Was that so hard?”

Willow smiles as juice from her apple drips onto her chin. Molly opens the French doors in the kitchen that lead to a screened porch. The porch opens onto a brick patio that lies between the rear of the house and the garage. The access door to the garage is open and the garage lights are on, as is an old and very large big screen TV that fits snugly among the built-in shelves on the nearest wall of the garage. Matthew can be seen at his work bench sanding a piece of wood.

“Hey, hun. Whatcha doin’?”

Matthew doesn't hear.

Half yelling, Molly says, “Hey, I'm home!”

Startled, Matthew jumps and turns toward his wife, “Oh, hi, Molly. Have you been home long?”

“Nope, just got home.”

Molly walks toward the work bench where her husband is seated, careful not to knock over the tools, hoses, rakes, shovels, and other items strewn haphazardly on the floor of the garage. When she reaches the bench, she hugs her husband and picks up the cordless phone. She looks through the list of incoming calls on the Caller ID display and sees a call from the hospital.

Molly asks her husband, “Why did the hospital call?”

“Your mom called before you got home to say your dad has been admitted to the hospital for some tests.”

Molly sighs as she picks up the phone and hits redial, “I better call and find out what's going on. I just hope my mother doesn't answer. She won't know shit about what's going on unless it has something to do with shopping. Hello, Mother? Is dad there? Morphine,

hmm. Oh, lumps? No, that doesn't sound right at all. Well, I'm glad he finally made it to the hospital for tests. Yes, I'll drop by tomorrow after work. Okay, bye.”

Matthew asks, “Well?”

“Apparently my father has lumps under his skin and has no idea how he got them. He has had a shot of morphine and is scheduled for tests in the morning.”

Matthew looks at his wife quizzically, “Lumps?”

“You heard me, lumps. Unbelievable … he's been to the doctor half a dozen times and no one can figure out what's wrong with him.”

“Well, maybe the tests will show something.”

Molly places the phone back on the bench and, with a look of concern, replies to her husband, “Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of.”