This was what Darry knew about the Randle household:

Joanne Randle, Steve's mother, was a flight risk. She was always threatening to leave Steve's father, Greg, because he was in between jobs more often than not and he was overly fond of the drink. Sometimes she followed through and actually left. For weeks at a time.

But she always came back.

Soda told Darry that she would always come back for Steve. She could never bear the thought of her son living alone with, as she put it, "that monster of a man."

Greg Randle was just that. He was terrible father and example to Steve. A real mean sonovagun. Abusive with his words and his neglect. Nobody tore Steve up like his old man.

Darry didn't know much about the day Steve's father kicked him out. He knew his mother had been on one of her "breaks" and Steve hadn't heard from her since the day she left. He knew Steve and his father had been butting heads for a while, but he never knew his dad would actually ask him to leave. If Darry was willing to bet, it was a mixture of too much whiskey, too much emotion, and Steve finally having enough. When Mr. Randle asked him to get out, Steve decided to listen, whether the man meant it or not.

And now, Darry was parked outside what he believed to be the Randles' house, not exactly looking forward to telling his father that his son was severely ill… and that he was financially responsible.

The trouble was, the house he was sitting in front of didn't look like the Randles' house. Normally, the house was trashed. Beer bottles littering the overgrown lawn, shutters falling off their hinges, a broken down car in the driveway…

But not today. Today, the lawn was mowed and the house was presentable. The shutters had been realigned and Darry was pretty sure the house had a fresh coat of paint. There were even flowers in the little patch of dirt leading up to the doorway. Flowers.

But this was the Randles' house. Darry had double-checked the address before he came.

A sinking feeling came over Darry. It occurred to him that Mr. Randle could have moved out. Perhaps he didn't even live there anymore. The car that was parked in the driveway sure looked nicer than the piece of junk that usually sat in the drive.

What if he wasn't there? How in the world would Darry get in touch with him?

Darry let out a sigh and kicked the truck door open. If there were new owners in this house, maybe they would know how to get in touch with Mr. Randle.

He walked up the drive and rapped on the door with his knuckles.

A man's voice - one Darry didn't recognize - called, "I'll get it." And now Darry was nearly positive Mr. Randle had moved out.

The front door swung open to reveal a clean-shaven version of a guy who looked a whole lot like Mr. Randle. "Hi, can I help you?" the man asked kindly.

Darry scratched the back of his head. "Uh, I'm looking for Greg Randle," he said. "Is he here?"

"No, I'm afraid not," the man answered. He extended his arm to shake hands with Darry. "Gerry Randle," he introduced himself. "I'm Greg's brother."

Darry shook his hand back firmly. "I'm Darry Curtis," he said. "I'm a friend of Steve's."

"A friend of Steve's, huh?" Gerry said warmly. "Pleasure to meet you, son."

"You too, sir," Darry said. He was getting a good vibe from this man. A sophisticated vibe. "If you don't mind me asking, where is Greg?"

Gerry sighed. "I think you'd better come in and sit down," he said, stepping to the side so Darry could get in the door. "It's kind of a long story."

Gerry led Darry into the TV room and asked him to have a seat. Darry obliged and eased into a spot on the couch.

"Hey, Jo," the man called into the kitchen. "Could you put a pot of coffee on? We have some company."

"Sure, Ger," Mrs. Randle replied. "I'll be out in a sec."

Darry felt his hands ball into fists as he realized Steve's mother was here. "How long has she been home?" he asked through gritted teeth, nodding toward the kitchen.

Gerry looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"She left," Darry said, trying hard to keep his voice steady, but it was hard when he was seething. "Over two months ago. She left Steve here, with your brother, and he kicked him out. Steve hasn't heard from her since."

Gerry was flabbergasted. "What?"

"You didn't know all this?" Darry asked, softening his tone. The man looked genuinely surprised.

"No, I didn't," Gerry answered. "Jo told me Steve was living with some friends, sure, but she didn't tell me it was because Greg kicked him out. And she certainly didn't mention she'd left."

"Unbelievable," Darry hissed, carding an angry hand through his hair. "What did she tell you?"

Gerry hesitated. "Listen kid, I think maybe it would be best if we talk outside."

"Yeah," Darry agreed, flashing an angry look in the direction of the kitchen. "I think you're right."

The pair stood up just as Mrs. Randle came bustling out of kitchen. "Coffee's heating up. So, who's our guest?" she asked brightly, freezing in her tracks when she laid eyes on Darry. Her smiled disappeared in an instant. "Oh, hi, Darrel," she said abashedly.

"Hi," Darry returned coldly, not even glancing in her direction.

"Jo, Darry and I are going to step out outside and have a conversation," Gerry said, his voice taking on a cold tone just like Darry's. "You can forget about the coffee."

Mrs. Randle blinked. "But—"

Gerry held up a hand. "You and I will talk later," he said firmly. "You have a world of explaining to do."

Mrs. Randle wrung her hands and silently nodded, slowly backing up until she'd disappeared back into the kitchen. Horror was plastered all over her face.

"C'mon, son," Gerry said, leading Darry out the door. "Let's talk."

"I recently got back from South Asia," Gerry told Darry over a drink. They'd walked the few blocks to the pub and were chatting over some beers. Darry wanted to know more about the man and the situation before he confided in him about Steve's illness.

"I was there for a little over ten years," Gerry continued. "I'm a doctor and I was fresh out of medical school when I left. I was told doctors were in high demand over there. And I was young and I wanted to see the world so I figured it was right up my alley."

Gerry was becoming increasingly impressive to Darry.

"So what parts did you practice in?" he asked.

"The majority of the time I was in India. I loved the country and the people. I also spent some time in Bangladesh and Nepal. It was a great experience, but ten years is enough. I was ready to come home."

"I'll bet," Darry said. "I hear it's a culture shock over there."

"Oh, absolutely. It was tough too, because I had to learn Hindi, or at least enough that I could direct the nurses to help the patients the way they needed." Gerry shook his head suddenly. "I'm sorry. I'm rambling."

"It's okay," Darry assured. "So how'd you wind up in Tulsa?"

"Well, I got back to the States about three weeks ago and I immediately phoned Greg. We hadn't been able to keep in touch over the years and over the distance. I wanted to know what my big brother was up to. He's my only family." Gerry let out a sigh. "Joanne answered and told me Greg was really struggling with alcoholism and that it had gotten out of hand. Apparently he'd taken a swing at her - or at least, that's what she claimed. She sounded upset and extremely scared. I flew down the next day.

"When I got here, she explained to me that Steve was living with some friends. That he'd left on his own. She told me she was relieved because she didn't want him here while his father was so belligerent."

Darry shook his head. "That's a load of bullshit."

"So I've gathered," Gerry said with a sigh. "Anyway, I told Joanne I'd pay for Greg's rehab. I'd made quite a living for myself after all those years in Asia and I could afford it. I knew that they couldn't."

"So that's where Greg is?" Darry asked. "In rehab?"

Gerry nodded. "He's at a facility in Phoenix. The best around."

"Good," Darry nodded. "That's where he needs to be." He took another swig of his beer as another question occurred to him. "Why didn't you reach out to Steve?" he asked, trying hard not to sound too accusatory.

"It's been a while since I've seen the kid. He was seven when I left the States." Gerry shrugged. "Besides, Joanne seemed content that he was living with friends. I assumed he was happy. I figured we could have a family reunion of sorts once Greg was well. Make a surprise out of it even."

Darry swallowed. He understood where Gerry was coming from and he did not blame the man. But he did need to set the record straight. "You're wrong," he said softly, no heat behind his words. "Steve's not happy. He's had a really tough time lately."

Gerry's eyebrows knotted in concern for his nephew. "What's been going on?"

"Two of our closest buddies died a few months back. And soon after that, Steve's girlfriend cheated on him." Darry let out a deep breath. "Combine all that with his mom taking off and his dad kicking him out…" Darry trailed off, voice thick with emotion. "And now… now he's… he…" Darry shook his head as a couple of tears slipped down his cheeks. He wasn't sure he could deliver this bombshell of news to the unsuspecting man beside him.

"What?" Gerry prompted, concern and worry etched in his features. He put a gentle hand on Darry's back, leaning forward to meet his eyes.

Darry let out a shuddering breath and silently told himself to pull it together. "He's really sick," he answered. "He - uh - he has sepsis, Gerry."

Gerry closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Jesus Christ," he muttered.

Being a doctor, Darry was sure Gerry knew how serious Steve's diagnosis was.

"He's being treated at Hillcrest," Darry told him. "The doctor said that right now, his case is categorized as 'mild' sepsis, but Steve is really ill and we've been told to prepare for a turn for the worse." Darry thought back to the phone conversation he'd had with Sodapop that morning. "My brother stayed with him last night and he said Steve had a rough time. He wasn't responding well to the antibiotics. They made him extremely nauseated."

Gerry paled. "That poor boy."

"Yeah," Darry agreed. "I'm sorry I had to be the one to tell you."

Gerry shook his head. "I'm glad you did. What can I do to help?"

Darry scratched his head nervously. "Well, uh, I came over today to discuss Greg's financial responsibility for his son…"

"Don't even worry about that," Gerry said without missing a beat. "I'll cover any bills."

And just like that, a weight was lifted from Darry's shoulders.

Since Darry was eager to get back to the hospital, the rest of his time with Gerry was brief. It was strictly business.

On the walk back to the Randles' house to get his truck, Darry asked Gerry to pass the news along to Steve's mother. But he made it very clear that he did not want either one of them coming to see Steve until Steve said it was okay.

Darry had a feeling Steve would be welcoming of Gerry, but his mother was a whole other story.

Gerry agreed to the conditions. He also told Darry he'd speak with Joanne and ask her why she acted the way that she had.

Darry thanked him, assured him that he'd be in touch, and then he left.

Back to the hospital, a place that was begrudgingly starting to feel like a second home.

TBC...