Chapter 4 - The Parking Lot Confrontation
Dad didn't drive home. He drove straight down Highway 13 toward the Country Kitchen.
I didn't follow them immediately. I had an open house to run. For three hours, I led groups of curious townspeople, dairy farmers, and their kids through the sparkling stainless-steel packaging bays. I showed them how line four operated, explaining the pneumatic diverters, the heated seal heads, and the electronic metal detectors. Swede walked beside me, grinning every time someone asked a technical question and I answered without checking the manual.
"You did good, kid," Swede told me as we locked the tool crib around two-thirty. "Your old man needed to see that."
"I don't think he wanted to see it, Swede," I replied, tossing my clipboard onto the supervisor's desk.
"Doesn't matter what he wanted," Swede grunted, clapping me on the shoulder. "The truth's like sour milk. You can leave it in the back of the fridge all you want, but eventually the smell forces you to open the door."
When my shift ended at three, my phone showed seven missed calls from Mom and two voicemails from Donnie.
I sat in my truck in the plant parking lot and played Donnie's message through the speakers.
His voice was hoarse, manic, and slurred with panic. "Jake! Pick up your damn phone! What the hell did you tell Dad? He came storming into the bowling alley like an absolute maniac! He kicked my truck door! He’s throwing all my stuff out onto the lawn! Call him, Jake! Tell him it was a misunderstanding! Tell him Ernie made a clerical error or something! You owe me this, man! I’m your brother!"
I deleted the message without listening to the second one.
Then I dialed Mom's cell.
She answered on the first ring, her breathing ragged. "Jake?"
"I'm on my way over, Mom," I said. "Are you alright?"
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"Donnie's here," she sobbed softly into the receiver. "Your father found him sleeping in the front seat of his truck behind the bowling alley. Jake, they’re screaming at each other in the driveway. Dad threw the smoker into the ditch."
"I'll be there in ten minutes."
