Sixty Days Left, So He Asked the Deacon's Son for Every One novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Terms

In the farmhouse Cooper sets four rules, Rudy squares off with Jonas, and a napkin list begins.

Jonas's farmhouse sat a mile behind the packing house at the end of a gravel road lined with pecan trees.

Cooper had driven past the gate a hundred times and never gone in.

"Guest room's upstairs," Jonas said, and he carried Cooper's duffel up the steps.

"It's a bag of three shirts, Brannen."

"I know what's in it. I watched you pack it."

He had.

He had followed Cooper's truck home to the trailer park.

He had stood in the doorway while Cooper stuffed a toothbrush and a pill organizer in with his shirts, and said nothing.

Cooper had not known what to do with that, so he had been rude to him.

Now he stood in a pale blue bedroom with a quilt on the bed and a window over the grove.

He felt ridiculous.

"I have rules," he said.

Jonas set the duffel on the quilt and turned around, arms crossed.

"Let's hear them."

"One. No pity. Not a look, not a tone, not a casserole."

"That's one," Jonas said.

"Two. Nobody finds out. Not your cousin, not the pastor, not the Piggly Wiggly. I'm not dying in front of a town."

"Rudy knows."

"Rudy's different. Rudy's been holding my bucket since fifth grade." Cooper held up three fingers. "Three. Nobody talks about after. Day sixty is the end of the book. I'm not hearing about plans."

Jonas's face did not move.

"And four?"

"Four. You don't stop me. I make a list. Whatever's on it, I do it, and you come along or you stay behind. You don't say it's bad for my heart."

For a long moment the only sound was the old house ticking as it cooled.

"Those are good rules," Jonas said.

"I know they are."

"I've got one," Jonas said.

"You don't get one."

"I've got one anyway." He stepped closer and tucked his thumb under Cooper's chin, and Cooper's whole body went still. "You eat what I put in front of you. You take every pill on that organizer. You sleep in a bed with a blanket, not in a truck cab."

"That's three."

"It's one. It's called taking care of yourself," Jonas said.

"That's pity."

"That's me," Jonas said. "Pity has nothing to do with it."

He let go and walked to the door, and Cooper was angry to find he wanted to call him back.

"Dinner's in ten minutes. I make a decent chili."

"I hate chili," Cooper said.

"Then I make a decent grilled cheese."

He closed the door softly behind him.

Cooper sat down on the quilt and put his face in his hands.

He did not cry.

He just sat there smelling cedar on his own collar until the shaking stopped.

At five-thirty the next morning a truck horn blew twice in the drive.

Cooper was already dressed, because he hadn't slept.

He came down the stairs with his dialysis bag and found Jonas in the kitchen with a mug in each hand.

"Rudy's here," Jonas said.

"I see that."

"He gets the Monday, Wednesday, Friday run. I'll take the Thursday scans," Jonas said.

"There are no Thursday scans."

"Then I'll take whichever one you give me."

Rudy Gaskins came in the back door without knocking, red-bearded and rumpled in his county EMS jacket.

He had a sack from the Waffle House under one arm.

He stopped when he saw Jonas.

Cooper watched the two of them look at each other across the kitchen.

"Morning," Rudy said.

"Gaskins."

"You look comfortable in that robe," Rudy said.

"It's a shirt, Rudy. I'm dressed."

"Right." Rudy turned to Cooper and softened all at once. "You eat?"

"Grilled cheese. At midnight. He stood over me."

"I bet he did."

"Don't start," Cooper said. "Either of you."

Rudy handed him the Waffle House sack and put a hand on his shoulder, and Jonas watched the hand and said nothing.

Nobody in the kitchen moved.

"You told him," Rudy said quietly.

"I told everybody. I quit. I'm here for sixty days. He said yes."

"Yes to what, exactly? Rudy asked.

"To all of it."

Rudy's eyes flicked to Jonas, and for a second his round, friendly face went flat.

"Cooper's my best friend," he said. "I carry the gurney for people who get hurt around here. If you hurt him, I'll get to carry you."

"Rudy."

"I'm just saying."

"I heard you," Jonas said. His voice was very even. "I'm not going anywhere."

Cooper had had enough of both of them.

He pulled the napkin from the stack by the sugar bowl, found a pen in the drawer, and sat down at the table.

He wrote one line.

He wrote it quickly, before he could lose his nerve, and then he turned the napkin around and slid it across to Jonas.

Jonas read it.

The mug in his hand stopped halfway to his mouth.

Item one said: Be kissed like I'm not dying.

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