Mitch nodded. Dr. Wilson’s office had called yesterday afternoon about bringing his mother in to discuss the results of her CT scan. When they’d said they could squeeze her in this Friday in Ponderosa, he had been relieved. He didn’t want to wait any longer than necessary. But now that he’d had time to think about it, he wouldn’t mind a little more distance between himself and the appointment. It felt like a moment of truth just waiting to smack him upside the head.

“You hear about George’s boy?” Travis asked.

Heads shook all around the table.

“One of the only guys to get a shot off on Sunday, then he fell in some kind of hole tracking the dang thing and broke his leg in three places.”

Willy’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Travis slid his chair back and pointed at his own leg. “Here, here, and here. Some cracked ribs, too. Gonna be laid up for months.”

Willy tossed his fork down. “Well, shoot.”

Mitch hated to hear that. George’s “boy” was a twenty-six-year-old named CJ with a wife and two kids. The wife stayed home with the little ones, and Mitch would guess CJ’s job barely paid their bills. They would’ve been counting on that meat to get them through the winter.

“What are they going to do?”

“Don’t know.” Travis shrugged. “It’d be a lot easier if their little rental wasn’t out to heck and gone. The missus took cinnamon rolls over there yesterday, but her old car’ll never make it up that hill once the roads get bad.”

Mitch thought of his parents. Their house was more accessible than CJ’s, but it was still difficult to check in on them as much as he would like. It wasn’t on the way to anyplace, and by the time he got off work at six or seven, it was already getting dark. Most of the time, he was plumb wore out. But he needed to make more of an effort. His dad said they were doing better, but it didn’t matter. He needed to be there for them.

He dropped a couple dollars on the table as he stood. “I better get to work.”

The other men mumbled their farewells, and Mitch stopped at the register to pay for his usual: two eggs, hash browns, bacon, and toast.

As Debbie rang him up, he pulled an extra twenty from his wallet. “CJ Tucker’s got a tab here, don’t he?”

Debbie nodded.

He handed her the cash. “Put this on it.”