Read Calvin’s Cowboy for Free Online Page B

for a couple hours yet.”
    “How’s dad? Any more chest pains?”
    “No, and we got him registered with a good heart doctor here. He’s from Pakistan, but his English is very good.”
    Calvin barked out a laugh. “Is Dad there?” Despite the reassurances his mom had given, Calvin needed to talk to the man himself.
    “Sure, he’s right here. Just a minute.”
    By this point Calvin had arrived home, but stayed in his car to continue the call.
    “Calvin,” his dad rumbled into the phone. “This is a nice surprise. There’s nothing wrong is there? You’re all right? There’s nothing wrong with the house?”
    Something eased inside Calvin. “No, Dad, everything’s just fine.”
    “Did you choose a Realtor yet?” I don’t trust Perkins on 5 th and Vine. They screwed Bill Heggerty when he sold up last year.”
    “No, Dad, I haven’t picked anyone yet. I promise I won’t use Perkins. I’ve asked a contractor to do a bit of renovation first. It’ll help sell the place.”
    Calvin half-expected his dad to say that the house was fine and didn’t need fixing up. Therefore it came as quite a surprise when he said, “Good idea. But then you would know about things like that, you being a smart New York executive.” There was obvious pride in the man’s voice.
    “I don’t know about that.” Calvin could take praise from anyone in stride, except when it came from his daddy. Then he always became uncomfortable and strangely shy. “I asked Brock…uh, John Brockwell to come over yesterday to give me some advice.”
    “He’s a good man. His daddy was, too. Too bad about what happened to him.”
    “Yeah, Brock was telling me this morning about that.”
    “Oh, you saw him again today?”
    No way was Calvin going to tell his father he’d spent the night—albeit platonically—with Brock.
    “I’m glad we could put some work his way.” His daddy rumbled, “I know it can’t be easy for him and John, Jr.”
    “John, Jr? That’s who I spoke to.” Had his daddy forgotten what he’d said earlier about the elder Brockwell dying?
    “He’s at baseball camp, isn’t he?”
    “What?” Calvin’s confusion increased. As did his worries about his daddy’s state of mind.
    “Oh, I think I understand now,” his daddy chuckled. “John, Sr. died last fall.”
    “Yeah.”
    “So John, Jr., the boy you were in the same grade at school with, is John Brockwell, Sr., now.”
    “Uh, I suppose.
    “And his son is now John Brockwell, Jr.”
    Brock has a son? Calvin was stunned, but then he remembered Brock saying he’d been married. “Oh, I see.” Calvin felt strangely deflated, though why, he wasn’t sure. He bet Brock was a great dad.
    “Anyway, son, I’m glad you hired Brockwells. John, Jr., uh, I mean John, Sr. will do a good job. His daddy taught him well.”
    “Uh, yeah.” Calvin was still getting used to the idea of there being a junior version of Brock running around.
    “Well, son, I better go now. These long-distance calls are expensive, and I know you’ll be busy, so—”
    Calvin didn’t bother trying to explain, yet again, that he had unlimited long-distance. And the comment about being busy was reasonable given that on the few times he’d called his parents, he’d cut things off after a few minutes because he’d run out of things to say. He’d usually use the excuse that he had a meeting or a presentation to attend.
    “Okay, Dad. Good talking with you.”
    “You, too, son.”
    “I…I love you, Mom, too.”
    There was a slight pause at the other end. Calvin was beginning to think the connection had been dropped.
    “Thank you, son. We love you, too.” Was his daddy’s voice more gravelly than usual? “Bye, son.”
    “Bye, Dad. You take care now, ya hear?” Calvin pressed “End,” closed his eyes and laid his head back on the headrest.
    A few moments later a knock on the driver’s window had Calvin jerking alert. It was the mailman. Calvin rolled down the window.
    “Mr.