The Men of Wesley Lake Box Set

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

Graham struggled with the large cardboard box, nearly dropping it twice before hoisting it up the front steps and into the cabin he’d call home from now on. What had he been thinking, packing so many books in one box? He made his way into his new bedroom and dropped the load on his mattress. No way he’d get everything from his two bedroom apartment into this place. He’d been right to place most of his belongings in a storage unit. At least for now.

“Dad,” he called from his room. “You doing okay?”

No answer.

He sighed. It had already been a long day, yet it was all just beginning. He left the room in search of his dad. Since the two bedroom lake cabin was all on one level with an open floor plan, he didn’t have to search long. He found him sitting at the small round oak kitchen table, staring out the window.

“Dad? You okay?”

He turned toward Graham, his eyes crinkling in delight. “Hey, when did you get here?”

Graham sat in a chair, resting his hand on his dad’s arm. “Remember, I’m moving in today. So are you.”

His dad’s brow furrowed as he struggled to remember. He ran his hands through his graying hair and shook his head. “Why am I moving to the lake?”

Graham wasn’t sure if he should explain again. It was late in the afternoon and his dad grew more confused as the day progressed. Mornings were great, but evenings were difficult. “We’re here to have some fun,” he said, trying to keep it simple. He didn’t have it in him to explain yet again that his dad could no longer take care of himself, nor did he want to remind his dad he’d fallen down the stairs in his condo.

When the doctor had suggested placing his dad in an assisted living facility, Graham had been immediately against it. His dad was still young. He couldn’t put his fifty-two-year-old dad into a nursing home. It just didn’t seem right. But he also knew he couldn’t leave his father in his condo. It was three levels, and when his dad got confused or tired, he would often trip. The latest fall down the stairs had only sprained his ankle, but Graham knew it could become worse. He’d watched his grandmother deteriorate over time and knew the most basic skills could be lost to the disease.

Case in point, his dad’s older brother, Robert, had recently passed away in a car accident. Even though he’d been unable to drive for years, he’d somehow managed to take his wife’s keys and take off in the truck. By the time his aunt had realized Robert was gone, it was too late. He’d driven off the road into a tree and died instantly. The sheriff had said he was driving at a fairly high rate of speed.

Graham hated to think it, but he was almost glad his uncle had gone that way. It was quicker and meant his aunt wouldn’t spend the next years watching her husband struggle to even remember his name. Alzheimer’s was a cruel disease. Early-onset Alzheimer’s was brutal.

“Is the boat still here?”

Graham pulled himself from his thoughts and nodded. “It’s not in the water, though. We’ll get her in sometime soon.”

His dad smiled. “We had some fun out here over the years, didn’t we?”

He smiled. “We sure did. Family barbecues. Lots of vacations.” The summers his cousins had visited were the best. And the times before his mom had passed away. Those occasions when the entire family was together.

Graham’s gaze swept the small cabin, taking in the photos on the wall, the old battered furniture, and the bedroom doors badly in need of paint. He remembered pulling out that old couch and staying up all night with his cousins while they played video games. The old doors had all the kids’ height charts penciled in. His grandparents had insisted on doing that whenever they’d first visited Wesley Lake each summer. He sighed. The lake house was filled with memories.

“I’ve got to get some more boxes, Dad. You okay for a few minutes?”

His dad looked at him, his brow furrowed. “Boxes?”

Graham sighed. He needed to finish quickly. It looked like his dad was slipping into his sundowner phase. “Yeah, just a few. I’ll be right back.” He rose from his chair and found the remote. “How about watching some CNN?”

He clicked on the television and found CNN, glad he’d already had the cable installed. His dad stood and shuffled over to the tan sofa situated in the middle of the living room area. Graham still couldn’t get over how feeble he looked. Tiger, his dad’s elderly orange tabby cat, appeared from under the table and followed them to the sofa, jumping up to sit next to Graham’s dad.

Once his dad was settled, knowing the news and Tiger would keep him entertained for a few minutes, Graham hustled outside to get as many boxes out of his truck as he could. It was supposed to rain later and he didn’t relish dealing with wet, ruined boxes.

Each time he entered the cabin, he was glad to see his dad in the same place—eyes glued to the screen, one hand petting the cat. His dad may have gone through some changes, but something that hadn’t changed was his love of the news. Especially anything to do with politics. Although, Graham had explained over and over who the new president was, his dad always thought he was kidding, not believing a reality star was the president. He’d given up trying to convince him, figuring maybe ignorance really was bliss on this particular subject. He certainly wished he could forget the damage already done to the country in just one year.

His new bedroom was small and storage was a luxury, so he’d need to make a run to Target to grab some organizational items. His queen-sized bed took up much of the space, even pushed into the far corner of his room. He’d kept the wrought iron headboard, but had stored the footboard. It would have taken up too much room. A tall mahogany chest of drawers stood against the opposite wall with the matching nightstand next to the bed. He set his teardrop-shaped lamp made of crackled glass on the nightstand, and for the first time, the room looked like home. Once he’d hung a couple of things on the wall and got his quilt on the bed, Graham knew it would help, too.

The only closet was incredibly small—closer to the size of a utility closet, really. He hung up a few things and decided he’d need to fold most items. Top on his list for Target was under-the-bed storage.

A crash and a loud meow from the main area of the cabin had him dropping the clothes and running out of his room. “Dad?”

No answer, but it didn’t matter. Graham saw him standing in the kitchen area, looking at the floor, panic etched in his face. Shattered glass surrounded him. He glanced up and met Graham’s gaze, his eyes widened in shock.

“Don’t move, Dad.” He grabbed the broom leaning against the counter, still out from sweeping up the spilled granola earlier. Graham glanced around, hoping to see the cat, and breathed a sigh of relief when he spied him on the recliner. He swept quickly, his dad fidgeting in place, like a child worried he’d done something wrong. Graham dumped the glass into the trash and clapped his dad on the shoulder. “All cleaned up. No worries. How about a pizza for dinner? Pepperoni?”

His dad’s eyes lit up at the mention of his favorite food. The man didn’t answer, but he smiled as he shuffled to the sofa.

Graham placed an order and decided to work in the kitchen while they waited for the delivery so he could keep an eye on his dad. He needed to stock up on groceries and cleaning supplies. He’d brought his own dishes, so he’d get those unpacked either after dinner or sometime tomorrow.

He glanced out the small window over the kitchen sink and watched the water ripple as a light wind blew over the surface. He loved Wesley Lake. It had always brought a sense of peace to his soul. And this place was full of memories, mostly wonderful. So many summers spent here. Jumping off the dock with his sister and cousins. Fishing. Graham chuckled. Well, attempting to fish. He’d never been too great at it; he never could keep still long enough to wait for a fish to bite. He wondered if they still had the old canoe in storage somewhere. Graham grinned as memories washed over him. Spending time here had been some of the best moments in his life.

But living here full time would be different.

The cottage was only about thirty minutes from where he’d grown up in Kansas City, so he wasn’t far from the city and all its conveniences, along with access to art and culture.

The lake community had changed somewhat over the years. Many of the small cabins had been torn down, giving way to large, multi-million-dollar homes, one of those just next door. The rest of the homes, tucked away from the main lake on the inlet, were older and smaller, like his.

His. That was a weird thought. But it was his now. His sister hadn’t wanted the property—she and her husband lived in California and rarely came back to Missouri.

When his dad had been diagnosed, Graham had been the obvious choice to become his guardian. After the elder man’s latest fall, Graham had talked with his sister and they’d decided to sell their dad’s condo. The moment they’d worried about had arrived—the man just couldn’t live alone anymore. The lake house had seemed the perfect solution. One story, open floor plan. Smaller. So, Graham had bought the cabin from his dad, feeling it the right thing to do. This way, he could be with his dad and keep the cottage in the family.

He loved it, anyway, and while he had a few ideas for changes, he didn’t want to alter it too much. The tile flooring needed to be replaced and he wanted to have a hardwood floor installed. And the walls had been painted a bright white at one point, but desperately needed repainting. He’d been considering a warm cinnamon, light but it would bring in some color.

He still wasn’t sure where to set up a work area, but for now, he’d decided on the kitchen table, where he could easily keep an eye on his dad.

The doorbell rang, and he strode to the door to get the pizza. His dad had started to doze, but the pizza would wake him up. And Graham needed to get him to take his meds, often a chore in the evenings. His dad hated taking pills.

He paid for the pizza and set it on the kitchen table, his stomach rumbling. He lifted the box lid and the aroma of pepperoni, cheese, and garlicky tomatoes made his mouth water. He’d forgotten how the local pizza shop had amazing food.

“Dinner’s here, Dad,” he announced.

His dad glanced at him and nodded, but didn’t get up. That was okay. They could eat at the sofa their first night in their new home. Rules were meant to be changed, right?

He grabbed a couple of slices, some paper plates, and napkins and settled in next to his dad to watch CNN. Tiger jumped up to join them, sniffing the air at the pizza, but when Graham offered him a tiny piece of cheese, he turned up his nose, choosing to sit on the back of the sofa and watch the news. Conversation was nil, but Graham was good with that. He just wanted to make sure his dad felt at home.

He’d been worried—thought his whole life would change as he moved into the position of caretaker, but he had a good feeling about it. He took another bite of his pizza and smiled. The lake, the cottage, his dad. It would all work out.