Maybe that was what he’d been doing to Simon. Telling him what to do, not just talking. He probably drove the kid crazy. So why had he fought to get to him?

When they headed home, Hank decided he’d let Simon pick where they stopped and what they ate. They’d talk about what Simon liked. No more lectures.

A few minutes later when Hank walked into what everyone in town called “the home,” a sleepy desk clerk waved him through. It was after eight and most of the “guests” were in their rooms. Supper was over. The guests, as the staff called all patients, would watch an hour of TV before they drifted off to sleep. Hank had seen the routine before. A rounds nurse would take off the residents’ glasses, tuck them in, and turn down the lights at nine.

He wasn’t surprised to see his father already in bed, but no TV. His father always read his Bible before sleep.

“Hello, Dad.” Hank stood at the door as if waiting for permission to step in.

The old man smiled. “The prodigal son returns.”

“I’ve been in town for a few weeks helping out a friend who was hurt. Sorry it took me so long to come by.”

“I don’t mind. I’ve heard of your good deeds. Helping a woman who was hurt. Fixed up her house, I heard. And got my old car running. Thanks for that. The Andrew sisters told me you were solving crimes. Someone said you even helped a Texas Ranger out.”

Hank moved closer. His father looked frail, but his eyes were as sharp as ever. “Dad, I’m a cop now. Have been for years. Some folks around here don’t believe it, but that’s what I do for a living.”

“I know all about you, son. I’ve got an old friend in Houston. He sends me the newspapers when you’re in it. I figured you didn’t want me to worry and you’d tell me in due time. There are many ways to serve, son.”

Hank took his father’s wrinkled hand. Part of him wanted to tell the old man all about his life. He thought of confessing everything he’d done wrong or any time he’d walked away when he could have helped someone. But Hank wasn’t sure his dad could take the whole truth.

His dad patted Hank’s hand. “I used to wonder why God gave me such an adventurer, a fighter, a risk taker for a son. Finally, I figured it out. I needed to build a base for you to come back to. Maybe you’ll never need it, but if you do, it’ll be there.”

Hank pulled up a chair and for the first time in his life he just talked to his father. There were no lectures. No sermons. Just talk.