Another Mother Read online

  “We gotta run up to West Palm Thursday morning.”

  “We just got back,” said Red with much frustration. “And I told you, I got a date Friday night.”

  “We'll be back Thursday night … I promise.”

  “Oh, well, if you promise,” Red responded sarcastically. “You know that means nothing to me when you say that. You are in no way what I would consider a man of his word.”

  “Ouch,” said Dan. “That hurts. I'll pick you up at six on Thursday morning.”

  “I'm not going,” Red argued.

  “I'll go,” said the stranger.

  “Thanks, pal,” said Dan, “but he's going.”

  “I'm not going,” Red argued.

  “We'll get breakfast on the way,” Dan coaxed.

  “No.”

  “I'll pencil you in.”

  “Don't pencil me nothing,” said Red.

  “You can pencil me in, if you want,” said the stranger.

  Dan put up his hand. “Thanks again, but no.”

  The guy shrugged. “Suit yourself.” The guy downed the rest of his drink and slid off the back of his stool. “Thanks for the drink, pal.” He turned and Dan and Red watched him until he was out the door.

  “You ever see him before?” Dan asked.

  Red shook his head.

  Dan got off his stool and hurried to the door. He opened it a crack and peeked out. He watched the stranger walk to his car—a black Volkswagen Passat with Texas plates—get in, and drive out of the parking lot.

  “Weird,” Dan said, returning to his seat.

  “Ah, you think everybody's weird,” said Red.

  “Everybody is weird. That guy just seemed a little weirder than most.”

  “He was just trying to be friendly.”

  “He offered to ride to West Palm with me. That's nuts. He's probably a serial killer.”

  “You should have taken him up on the offer, because now you're going to West Palm alone.”

  “No … you're coming with me.” Dan looked up at the clock on the wall over the back bar, between the glass racks. “Let's head over to the hospital and get that out of the way.”

  “Get it out of the way?” Red asked with surprise. “Do you even hear yourself when you speak?”

  “What?”

  “You don't refer to seeing a sick friend in the hospital as getting it out of the way.”

  “Maybe you don't.”

  Jocko walked through the kitchen door with Dan's fish sandwich and fries. “Here ya go, Coast,” he said, sliding the plate across the bar.

  “Silverware?” Dan asked.

  “What about it?” Jocko asked, and went back into the kitchen.

  “Boy, he's a real people person,” said Dan.

  Red grabbed a fork and knife from under the bar and tossed it in front of Dan. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I think you both went to the same school of manners.”

  “Is there a school of manners?”

  “Probably.” Red looked over his shoulder at the clock. “Cindy should be here in the next few minutes, then we can leave.”

  Dan took a bite of his sandwich. “Good.”

  “Should we stop and get Skip some dirty magazines?” Red asked.

  “No, that would be stupid.”

  “I don't know, that guy seemed to think—”

  “You mean the serial killer? Yeah let's take his advice.”

  “Well, if I'm ever in the hospital, you can bring me dirty magazines.”

  “I probably won't. I probably won't even come and see you.”

  “Wow! And you want me to ride up to West Palm Beach with you.”

  “Does that mean you're going?”

  “I guess.”

  “Then I'll bring you dirty magazines when you're in the hospital.”

  “Thanks.”

  Chapter Three

  Cindy Leonard arrived at work a few minutes after Dan finished his lunch. A few minutes after that, Dan and Red jumped in Dan's car and headed for the hospital.

  “We should really bring Skip something,” Red said.

  “I'm not stopping to buy dirty magazines,” Dan shot back.

  “Maybe we should bring him a cheeseburger from Wendy's,” Red offered. “He loves cheeseburgers.”

  “I guess that would be fine—wait, are we stopping for him, or for you?”

  “Well, I mean … I could eat.”

  “You just sat on the other side of the bar watching me eat my lunch. Why didn't you get yourself something?”

  “I wasn't in the mood for that crap.”

  “That crap? Wow! It's your bar.”

  “Yeah, exactly. And I get sick of eating there.”

  Dan took a left onto United Street. He adjusted his rearview mirror and stared at the car behind him.

  Red noticed Dan's eyes darting from the mirror to the street, and back. He turned around and looked behind them. “What are you looking at back there?”

  “Remember that weirdo at the bar?”

  “You mean other than you?”

  “Yeah, dickhead, other than me.”

  “The friendly guy? What about him?”

  “I think he's following us.”

  Red looked over his shoulder again.

  “Stop looking,” Dan scolded.

  “Why?” Red asked. He waved to the guy behind them. The guy waved back.

  “What the Christ are you doing?” Dan asked.

  “I just waved to him,” Red replied. “I think it is him.”

  Red started to wave again, but Dan slapped his hand down.

  “Knock it off!” he warned.

  “Ow!” Red shouted, rubbing the back of his hand. “What did you do that for?”

  “The guy is following us, and you're waving at him,” said Dan. “Who does that?”

  “Friendly people,” Red answered. “Like me … and that guy back there.”

  “I'm gonna try and lose him.”

  “Shouldn't we find out what he wants?”

  “I don't care what he wants.”

  Dan flipped on his blinker to turn left at Duvall Street, but then yanked the wheel right. He floored it and slid around the corner. He took a quick right onto Catherine Street and then a left onto Simonton Street. Dan slammed on the brakes and pulled a hard left into a parking lot. He drove around behind the Florida Department of Health and exited the parking lot onto Virginia Street.

  “Any sign of him?” Dan asked.

  Red continued to stare out over the back of the Porsche. “Nope. I think ya lost him.”

  “Learned that little move from Jason Bourne,” Dan said proudly.

  “You mean the 'driving through a parking lot' move?” Red asked. “Real tricky.”

  “Lost him, didn't I?”

  “Yeah, and it's a good thing too. We sure wouldn't have wanted him to know we were going to Wendy's.”

  “Are you saying we never had trouble at Wendy's before?” Dan asked, recalling the time two hit men tried to take them out at Wendy's.

  “Once in a lifetime event,” Red said. “Hey, and didn't you propose to me there?”

  “I believe I did.”

  “So that makes two weddings you haven't set a date for.”

  Dan pulled into the Wendy's parking lot and into a spot near the building. He shut off the engine and Red climbed out of the car.

  “You coming in?” Red asked.

  “No. I just ate.”

  “You could still come in with me.”

  “Just go,” Dan groaned.

  “Fine,” said Red, turning and heading inside.

  It wasn't two minutes later when Dan saw the black Passat enter the Wendy's parking lot. “Son of a bitch,” he whispered to himself. He watched as the Passat drove slowly in front of him, turned, drove behind him, and parked in the spot next to him.

  The guy in the Passat lowered his passenger side window and looked across the seat at Dan. “Hey, I thought I lost you guys for a second,” said the Asian guy with a smile.

&
nbsp; “Ya don't say,” Dan replied.

  “Yeah. You went into that parking lot and I almost lost ya.”

  “Weird.”

  He put his car in park and shut off the engine. “What are you guys doing, getting lunch?”

  Dan nodded his head.

  “I like the Baconator,” said the guy.

  “No kiddin'?”

  “Yeah.” The guy nervously looked around the parking lot.

  “Is there something I can help you with, pal?” Dan asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do you mean, what do I mean? You're following us around like some kind of nut case. Back at Red's you offered to drive to West Palm Beach with me. I don't even know you.”

  “I'm Richard Bong.”

  “Yeah, I don't fuckin' care,” said Dan. “I think you've been hittin' the bong a little too much.”

  Richard chuckled. “I've heard all the bong jokes.”

  “I bet you have. Now, why don't you just start up your car and move on before I get really pissed.”

  “You're Dan Coast, right?”

  Dan opened his door and started getting out of the car. “That's it,” he said, “and I've had just about enough of you.” As Dan walked around the back of Richard's car, he noticed Red exiting Wendy's. His hands were full of takeout bags and a drink carrier.

  Dan yanked open Richard's door. “Get out, asshole,” he said.

  “I don't want any trouble,” Richard said, putting up his hands in surrender.

  “Too late,” Dan said. He grabbed Richard by the shirt and pulled him out of the car.

  Richard kept his hands up. “Really, I don't want any trouble.”

  “What's going on?” Red asked.

  “This asshole was still following us.”

  “Ouch,” said Richard.

  Red tried to get between Dan and Richard. He managed to save his own drink, but his Frosty and Skip's soda toppled off the drink carrier and splattered on the blacktop. “Dammit!” Red hollered. “Now look what you've done.” Red shoved Dan backwards with his right forearm, and pinned Richard to his car with his left. Richard was still in a surrendering stance.

  “Is Gene Coast your father?” Richard asked.

  Dan cocked his head. “Yeah. Why?”

  “He's my father too,” said Richard.

  Red relaxed his forearm.

  “What?” Dan asked.

  “I think you're my brother,” Richard said.

  “But, you're Chinese,” said Dan.

  “I'm Vietnamese,” Richard corrected.

  Red looked at Dan. “Your mom ever been to Vietnam?” he asked.

  “No, ya moron,” Dan shot back, “but my dad has.”

  “Ooooh,” Red said, when the light bulb came on.

  “How old are you?” Dan asked.

  “Forty-six.”

  Dan counted the years back in his head. “That's when he was there, all right.”

  “How long have he and your mom been married?” Red asked.

  “Forty-four years,” Dan replied.

  “Well, that's good.”

  “Yeah, that's just great.”

  Red sat his food bags on Richard's hood and then flattened out the wrinkles he and Dan had put in the man's shirt. “Sorry about that.”

  “Don't worry about it,” Richard responded. He pushed himself away from the car.

  “So, what makes you think that we have the same father?” Dan asked.

  “My mother, Tran, died last year, from cancer,” Richard explained. “Before she died she told me that an American soldier by the name of Gene Coast was my real father. After she died, I started looking for him. It wasn't hard. All it took was a couple Google searches. I found out I had two half-brothers, and four half-sisters. I know our other brother died when he was little, so I decided to contact you first, instead of our father.”

  Dan sighed loudly and looked up at the clear blue sky. He dropped his head and rubbed his temples. This was a lot of unexpected information to take in. He heard the crumpling paper and looked back up to see Red trying to reach quietly into one of the food bags.

  “Sorry,” Red whispered. “I'm hungry. You guys pretend I'm not here.”

  Dan shook his head. “You don't have an accent,” he pointed out. “How long have you been in America?”

  “My mother and the man I thought was my real father, Kim Bong, escaped North Vietnam when I was two years old. We came to the United States … Texas.”

  “Is your father still alive, this Kim Bong?”

  “No, he died ten years ago.”

  “I don't know what to think about all this,” said Dan. “I need to talk to my dad.”

  “Of course,” said Richard. “My mother's maiden name was Pham. Our father would remember her by that name.”

  “How long are you in town? And stop saying 'our father.'”

  “Sorry. I'll be here until Sunday morning.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “At The Atlantic Inn … at the end of—”

  “I know where it is.”

  “Shouldn't he stay with you?” Red asked.

  Dan shot Red a look.

  “He's your brother, after all,” Red said.

  “No,” said Richard. “The hotel is fine. I wouldn't want to impose.”

  “I don't know that he's really my brother,” Dan argued. “He just shows up and—”

  “Nonsense,” Red cut in. “You can stay with me until Dan makes sure you're his brother.”

  “No,” said Dan.

  “You don't have to do that,” said Richard.

  “It's no trouble at all,” said Red.

  “What the Christ!” said Dan. “I can't believe this is happening.”

  “I know,” said Red. “Isn't it great?” Red jammed the remainder of his double cheeseburger into his mouth. He sipped his soda through the straw.

  Dan was at a loss for words. That was a new feeling for him.

  “So then, you're going to give our dad a call?” Richard asked.

  “Yeah, but I toldja to stop calling him our dad. For now he's just my dad.”

  “You got it,” Richard agreed.

  “Why don't you go back to your hotel,” Red suggested, “and Dan and I will pick you up around five this afternoon. We're on our way to visit a friend in the hospital right now.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” said Richard. “I'll meet you at The Atlantic Inn at five.”

  Dan turned without saying anything more to Richard and walked back around to his car and got in. Red picked up the bags of food and joined Dan in the car. Dan started the car and drove out of the driveway.

  “Isn't this awesome?” asked Red, his mouth full of his second burger.

  “What?” Dan asked. His mind was a million miles away.

  “I said, isn't this awesome.”

  “Isn't what awesome?”

  “You have a brand new brother.”

  “He's not my brother.”

  “How do you know?”

  “My dad would have said something.”

  “Maybe your dad didn't know.”

  “He doesn't even look like me.”

  “He kinda does.”

  “He's Vietnamese!”

  “Yeah, he's like the Vietnamese version of you,” Red argued. “Did you hear him when you called him an asshole? He said, 'Ouch.'”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “That's what you say. You say 'ouch' all the time.”

  “A lot of people say 'ouch.' He also said 'sounds like a plan.' You think he might be Skip's brother as well?”

  “Oh my God! I didn't even think of that. What if him and Skip are both your brothers?”

  “Holy shit, you're stupid.”

  Dan pulled into the parking lot of the Lower Keys Medical Center and into the first parking spot he found.

  The two men walked across the parking lot and into the building. They rode the elevator up to the third floor.

  “Skip Stoner's room?” Dan
asked the nurse at the nurse's station.

  She pointed at the room directly across from her. “Right there,” she said, and went back to her computer monitor.

  Dan and Red walked cautiously into Skip's room. Skip lay in the hospital bed with his fingers laced behind his head. His eyes shot their way as they entered.

  “Yo, dudes!” said Skip. “What's up?”

  “How ya doin', pal,” Red asked.

  “Still breathin',” Skip answered. “All my parts are still here.” He showed his hands and arms and patted his legs. He grabbed his crotch. “Yup, everything's still attached.”

  Red stepped closer and placed the Wendy's bag on a bedside tray with wheels. “Brought ya some grub,” he said, as he did his best to maneuver the bulky stand closer to Skip.

  “Thanks, Red Man!”

  “When they letting you out of here?” Dan asked.

  “Couple days, I guess. They want to run a few more tests. The docs say I got a touch of the ole traumatic brain injury. They're just trying to determine how bad.”

  “It's not like anyone will notice,” Dan joked.

  “Ha! You got that right, Red Man.”

  “Dan,” Dan said, correcting his friend.

  “What?” Skip asked.

  “You called me Red Man,” Dan responded.

  Skip laughed again. “Huh. I guess that's the brain injury talking. They said I might be a little confused for a while.” Skip unrolled the top of the Wendy's bag and reached inside. He pulled out a double cheeseburger. “Just what the doctor ordered. Hey, there's no Coke!”

  “There was one. But—” Red caught Dan's disapproving glance. “Never mind. I'll get you one out of the vending machine.” Red exited the room and returned shortly with a canned Coke. He popped the top and set it on the tray.

  “Thanks, dude,” said Skip. “You're more helpful than some of the nurses around here. And better looking too.”

  “Christ, you do have traumatic brain injury,” Dan observed.

  Red fiddled with the two IV lines leading to the back of Skip's hand. “What do they got you on?” he asked.

  “One's something for the pain. I don't remember what the other one was for.”

  “What pain?” Dan asked.

  “Had some pretty bad headaches since the injury,” Skip replied. “Oh! That reminds me, how's Mrs. Stewart doing?”

  “She's good,” Dan replied. “She's supposed to be back in Key West tomorrow, and then she's going to stay in Georgia with one of her kids for a while.”