That was hard to believe. The stench grew stronger the farther into the apartment they came. Darius crossed into the kitchen and froze. A pile of dirty dishes stood in a sink full of filthy water. He’d found the source of the stench.
Darius stepped back. “Get dressed. We’re going out to eat.”
“What? Why?” Simon frowned his confusion.
“Can’t you smell that?” Darius gestured toward the sink. “Look around, Dad. Can’t you see this?”
“I just need to straighten up.”
“You need a hazmat team.” Although a hazardous materials team probably would condemn the place. Darius rubbed his eyes. “Get dressed. I’m not eating here.”
Simon looked around as though waking from a deep sleep. “It’s Thanksgiving. No place will be open.”
“We’ll find something.”
“Fine,” Simon muttered as he shuffled into his bedroom.
Minutes later, Darius sat at a booth in Trinity Falls Cuisine with a hastily dressed Simon. There were a few other patrons, mostly men, some alone, some with friends; a couple of students from TFU; and one or two couples.
The server had just brought their Thanksgiving plate specials: sliced turkey, stuffing, and broccoli. Simon attacked his plate as though he hadn’t eaten real food in months. Darius enjoyed the silence for as long as he could.
“Have you seen your mother?” Simon came up for air.
“I had lunch with her.” Such as it was.
“How is she?”
“Fine.” Darius cut into the soft sliced turkey. “You, apparently, are not.”
His father gave him a sharp look. “Yes, I am.”
Darius forked up stuffing. “Your apartment is a cry for help. It looks like you’re having some sort of emotional breakdown.”
“I’ve been busy starting a new life. I haven’t had time to fix the place up.” Simon went back to his early dinner.
“Mom’s starting a new life as well. The house has never looked better.” Was that a low blow?
“Your mother is still living in the house I half paid for.” Simon’s voice was tight with anger. “Meanwhile, I have to furnish an apartment and get to know a new neighborhood. I never thought I’d be paying rent in my retirement.”
“You said it was your decision to leave.” Darius sipped his iced tea. “You’ve made your bed. Now you get to sleep in it.”
“Your mother pushed me out.”
“What would you have done if you were her?”
“I wouldn’t kick someone out of his own home.” Simon gulped his soda, then slammed his glass onto the polished wood tabletop. “I’d have tried to work things out.”
“To do that, you’d have to take responsibility for the mistakes you’ve made.”
“What about the mistakes she made?” Simon pointed his fork at Darius.
“What mistakes?” Darius frowned.
“She never understood me.” Sighing, Simon stared morosely at his meal.
“Grow up.” The words burst from Darius without conscious thought.
“What?” Simon’s jaw dropped.