Don's Regret Came Too Late novel · Chapter 29 of 32

Chapter 29: A Pellegrino

The woman at the front of the line looked down at the floor.

Then up at me.

"Oh, honey," she said. "That's not the saline."

"Papa," I said.

He was at the register. He turned around with a roll of quarters in his hand.

He saw the floor.

The quarters went everywhere.

"Sit," he said. "No. Don't sit. Stand. No. Sit."

"Papa. Call Leandro. Get the van."

"The van. Yes. The van." He patted every pocket he had. "Where are my keys? Who took my keys?"

"They're on the hook. Where they've been since 1979."

The woman from the line was already holding my elbow.

A captain's wife I'd known since high school came out of the cough-and-cold aisle and took the other one.

"Breathe," she said. "In through the nose. I had three."

"I know you had three. You tell me every week."

"Then listen to me."

Papa drove the PELLEGRINO van to the hospital with his flashers on and both hands at ten and two.

He didn't run one red light.

"Papa. You can go a little faster."

"I'm carrying my grandchild," he said. "I'm going exactly the speed limit."

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