ChapterFour
Houston
After parking by the lake, he grabbed his fishing pole, lantern, and tackle box from the bed of his truck, then trudged through the weeds to his lucky fishing spot.
Houston knew if anything would relax him, it was fishing…or so he hoped. The odds were fifty-fifty or maybe twenty-eighty, he really wasn’t sure. Right now he was so disenchanted and angry with his dad, he wasn’t sure anything would lower his blood pressure.
The parts of him that weren’t seething mad were still humming with shock.
Duke Carson had never offered his sons a bribe before. Never once lured them with an incentive to make good grades, clean their rooms, or their plates. The fact that he was offering a shitload of money to whomever found a bride and made a baby first was plain ludicrous.
“He’s lost his damn mind,” Houston spat as he flicked his wrist, sending the lure into the inky smooth lake with an echoing plop.
Maybe he’s not crazy. Maybe he’s got dementia or something.
A foreboding chill crawled up his spine.
Houston knew how horrific dementia could be. He’d had several inappropriate and embarrassing conversations with Elenore Macon. The former English teacher, who’d once been as prim and proper as the queen, had zero filter left and was fixated on sex. He couldn’t imagine his dad—a private and proud man—boldly asking the people of Haven about their sex lives like Elenore.
Suddenly, the need to know everything he could about the disease clawed through him. How did it begin? How did it progress? Was there a way to stop it before it stole his dad’s mind? Reaching for his cell phone, Houston paused. He could look up the information on websites, but he didn’t trust the info. He wanted facts…honest-to-god clinical facts. There was one person in Haven he could count on to steer him in the right direction. He simply hoped his best friend since grade school was still awake.
Reeling in his line, he secured the hook, then gathered his things and raced back to his truck. Short minutes later, Houston pulled into Al’s driveway, relieved a light was still glowing inside the tiny bungalow. After killing the engine, he jogged to the porch and knocked on the door. The curtain covering the window fluttered before Al’s green eyes grew wide. As the fabric billowed back in place, he heard the lock disengage.
“This is a surprise. Come on in.” Al smiled, motioning him inside.
“I know it’s late, sorry about that.”
“You’re fine. What’s up?”
“I need to ask you some questions.”
“Okay. Would you like a soda? I think I have some in the fridge.”
“No, thanks. I’m good,” he said, waving the offer away before plopping down on the lumpy sofa.
Al claimed the faded, oversized leather recliner across from him. “What did you want to ask me?”
“I need you to tell me all you know about dementia.”
Al’s eyes widened, quickly filling with worry. “Who’s got dementia?”
“My dad…I think.”
“Oh, no. Oh, Houston, I’m so sorry.” A look of anguish crawled across Al’s face. “Wait. What do you mean, you think? Has Doc Knight diagnosed him with it?”
“Well, no. But after what happened earlier, Dad’s either batshit crazy or has dementia.”
“What happened earlier?”
After drawing in a deep breath, Houston relayed the details of the family meeting and the proposal his dad had made. By the time he’d finished relaying the story, Al looked as dumbfounded as Houston felt.
“Wow. Five million dollars is—”
“Insane. I know. That’s why I’m here.”
“Excuse me?”
“I need you to tell me everything you know about dementia.”
“What makes you think I’m an expert on the topic?”
“You work at the library,” he scoffed, pointing out the obvious. “Surely you know what books or journals have real facts that I can—”
“Hold up,” Al interrupted. “Duke Carson does not have dementia.”
“How do you know?”
“Because dementia is a slow and gradual decline. It doesn’t just pop up out of the blue one day. Your dad’s offer, while extreme and out of left field, was presented with clear, concise purpose. I bet you money he’s been chewing on this plan for weeks, if not months.”
“Maybe, but it’s still beyond crazy.”
“To you, it is.” Al smirked. “But to him, he’s simply trying to keep the promise he made your momma.”
“That’s not what I wanted to hear, Al.”