Tuesday Night at the Blue Moon by Debbie Fuller. Thomas

Tuesday Night at the Blue Moon by Debbie Fuller. Thomas

Author:Debbie Fuller. Thomas [Thomas, Debbie Fuller]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-8024-7998-3
Publisher: Moody Publishers
Published: 2008-01-15T00:00:00+00:00


On New Year’s Eve I took down the tree and the decorations and put them in my closet. Just before Carl got there on New Year’s Day, I remembered to copy down Uncle Greg’s address and phone number. That’s when I realized that he’d never even called Grandpa and Grandma to wish them a Merry Christmas.

Marty

I taped an index card with emergency contact numbers to the passenger’s visor of the truck. “Where do you think you’ll end up, Dad?” I asked.

“I’m shootin’ for the South Rim again.” He checked the snow chains and the toolbox in the truck bed. “If the weather’s bad, I’ll move farther south toward Tucson.”

“Tucson. The saguaros calling you?”

“Every night in my dreams.” He cinched up his tie-downs and tucked the ends under the tarp. “Way too early for blooms, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“Have you got your thermals?”

He nodded. I hated to mother him, but he was headed for some rugged weather, and it could be a month before we saw him again.

I packed extra blankets in the truck bed and tried to smile for his sake. All year he looked forward to this time when he could travel and do what he loved best—paint. And this time in the dead of winter, between the tree lot and the farmers market, was the only time he could get away. Enjoying life is what retirement should be about, not babysitting your grown daughter and her children.

The Grand Canyon was Dad’s favorite place to paint, with the desert a close second. It sent chills up my spine to see the angles he reached painting the canyon floor. I didn’t want to know what chances he took for the sake of his art.

As he packed, he hummed an old cowboy song, “Blue Bonnet Girl.” He was happiest on the open range or in the saddle. Dad would’ve moved back to Nevada in a heartbeat after Mom died if it hadn’t been for us, even though the family ranch had already been leveled for a golf course.

After Ginger died we discussed moving back home outside of Elko, since we no longer needed to be close to her specialists. There’s something healthy about growing up in a small town with animals and wide-open spaces. But we decided that Winnie and Deja didn’t need to be ripped from their friends and school when things were finally settling down for them. Besides, Russell and Starr had moved back to Elko, and I really didn’t want to run into the happy couple. I felt it was best for the girls to have as little contact with him as possible.

Dad popped open the glove box in the truck cab, tossed in extra flashlight batteries, and slammed it shut. Then he scanned the contents of a box on the floor—mostly maps. He left space for his paints and canvases on the passenger’s seat, mumbling to himself while he went over a mental checklist.

“Did you refill your prescriptions?” I asked. “What about antacid?”

“Got them in my kit.



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