“Of course, buddy,” George said, hiding the crack in his voice.
The Pines was nice enough—clean rooms, polite nurses, scheduled bingo. At first, the quiet was a relief. The fresh air and lack of tension helped him clear his head. But back at the house, Danny was miserable.
The boy was used to George being there. Now, the house felt empty to him. He constantly asked when Grandpa was coming home.
“Soon,” Mike would say, avoiding the boy’s eyes. Sarah, meanwhile, was thrilled. The house was exactly how she wanted it—quiet, organized, and free of “old man” clutter.
She even hosted a dinner party for her friends, who complimented her on the decor. But George was lonely. He called Mike, asking about Danny. Mike would give short, distracted answers. The visits never happened. George realized he had been “retired” from the family.
One afternoon, walking the manicured grounds of the facility, George made a decision. He wasn’t going to rot away in a place where he was sent to be forgotten. The next morning, he packed his single suitcase, checked out, and called an Uber.
When he opened the front door of Mike’s house, he stopped cold. The living room had been completely remodeled. His old recliner was gone. In its place was a sleek, modern desk. His photos were missing from the mantle.
He walked into the kitchen. New cabinets, new layout. He sat at the breakfast bar, feeling like a stranger in a museum. A few minutes later, the garage door opened. Mike and Sarah walked in. Sarah’s face dropped the moment she saw him.
“George? What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice sharp.
“I came home,” George said simply.
Mike stepped forward, looking incredibly uncomfortable.
“Dad, we talked about this. You were supposed to stay at The Pines for the full term.”
“Is this even my home anymore?” George asked, gesturing to the empty space where his things used to be.
The silence was broken by Danny, who came running from the den. “Grandpa! You’re back!”
George smiled, but his eyes were heavy. He hugged the boy tight, knowing this might be the last time for a while.
“Danny, go to your room for a minute,” Sarah commanded.
Once the boy was gone, the air turned cold. Sarah didn’t hold back.
“George, you can’t just show up. We’ve moved on. We have a life here.”
George looked at Mike, waiting for his son to say something—anything. Mike looked at the floor.
“Am I in the way?” George asked, his voice finally wavering.
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