Free Fatherless: A Novel by James Dobson, Kurt Bruner Page A

treat what had
     turned out to be phantom ailments.
    “I think she likes the attention,” the nurse had explained.
    Seeing tears form in his mother’s eyes made Matthew feel like a heel. He reached across the table to rub her frail arm while
     handing her a partially used tissue.
    “Here you go.” He hated making her cry. But he didn’t know what else to do. He was losing his battle to protect her dwindling
     assets.
    “I’m sorry, Matthew,” she said.
    “The doctor said there’s nothing wrong with you, Mom,” he continued gently. “Just remember to take your pills and everything
     will be fine.”
    But he knew she would not remember her pills any more than she could remember other important details. She became confused
     over the simplest tasks, like trying to recall the two-word voice command that would dial his number. It caused her to panic
     whenever he left for work or to run errands.
    The sound of two quick raps at the door announced Donny’s arrival. “Sorry I’m late,” he said while letting himself in. He
     began removing a coat. “Low on gas. Had to stop on the way.”
    “No worries.” Matthew was just grateful Donny had kept his promise. “Thanks for coming early. I really need to snag some extra
     hours.”
    In truth, Matthew needed a break. That’s why he’d spent the money to hire a second part-time parent-sitter, even though competition
     for senior-care workers had driven hourly rates to an all-time high. The income from Grandpa’s life insurance covered essentials
     like rent, utilities, groceries, and basic digital access. But it didn’t cover extra help. Last month he’d paid a portion
     of her prescription expenses out of his own paycheck. A waste, he thought, since she seemed to be getting worse instead of
     better.
    “Enroll in college,” his mom used to say. “Use the money for tuition. My son should be a professor.”
    She knew he could do it.
    He no longer even hoped.
    Before heading to work, Matthew began a morning ritual his mother had come to expect. Retrieving a set of rosary beads from
     the kitchen counter, he placed them carefully in her left palm. Engulfing her tiny fist with his own, he knelt down in front
     of her and looked in her eyes. “I’ll see you soon, OK, Mom?”
    Peering warily at Donny, she concentrated long enough to recognize the former stranger. She gave her son a hesitant but reassuring
     smile.
    “I’ll be back around four thirty,” Matthew informed Donny on his way out the door.
     
    * * *
    By the time Matthew arrived at work about a dozen students were already sipping drinks while scanning the day’s assignments
     or reading social media updates. He slid past a sofa and three tables, placing his backpack behind the pastry counter before
     starting another day retrieving empty mugs and tossing coffee-stained napkins.
    Glancing around the room, Matthew recognized three of the eleven students: nameless acquaintances who acknowledged his presence
     with a silent nod the way actors condescend to greet a helpful stagehand. He knew that his role, like those of the librarian
     and cafeteria workers, was trivial compared to those of the tuition-paying students and tenure-earning faculty. A quick mental
     tabulation said the room represented nearly six hundred thousand dollars in annual tuition, not including room and board,
     tech access fees, or specialty drinks.
    Slow day , he thought.
    “Hi, Matt,” came Sarah’s warm but apologetic greeting. “There were seven or eight frat parties last night. I think it’s gonna
     be slow all morning. Would you mind waiting to sign in until your regular shift? Or maybe even third-period rush? Kelly and
     I have it covered.”
    Just like that, his income dropped; it was the third time this month a shift manager had casually reduced his hours. Sure,
     he would work the guaranteed twenty hours this week, but he needed more.
    “I’ll make extra income to cover an additional sitter,” he’d told himself in