I ARRIVED AT THE SPRING Lodge at 9 a.m. to find my father sitting on a bench next to the front door, two suitcases on the ground.

“They made you wait outside?” I said. “They must really hate you.”

“Fuck ‘em. I’m sick of this place.”

“You know, you could’ve just called me. We could’ve found another place. Did you have to get thrown out?”

Albert stood up. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I helped him into the passenger side. “Really? You grabbed her ass?”

He buckled his seat belt. “Funny, I thought you’d bring up the punch first,” he said. “Thought that was the bigger offense.”

“Actually, it doesn’t surprise me that you’d punch someone, but I didn’t take you for a pervert.”

“I’m no pervert. It just slipped is all. You’d have grabbed her ass too, if you saw it. It was spectacular. Did I mention she was Asian?”

I tossed my father’s suitcases in the back of the SUV. “Does it really matter, Dad?”

“Hey, speaking of fine asses, how’s your ex? You two get back together yet?”

I closed the lift gate. “I’m not ready to talk about her. Besides, I don’t think it’s in the books.” I peered through the front door of the Spring Lodge. “Do I need to go in and see Diane? To sign you out or something?”

“Let’s just go. Nothing left to do here.”

“What about the rest of your stuff?”

“Room’s furnished. The bags are all I have. Don’t you remember? You moved me in.”

I did move him in and I knew the room was furnished. I just didn’t want to admit to myself that all of my father’s belongings fit in two medium-sized suitcases.

I looked into the lobby again. “I feel like I should apologize or something. Kinda feel bad that you felt up a nurse and punched an orderly.”

Albert stuck his head out the passenger door. “He wasn’t an orderly,” he said. “Just some asshole who works here. He had it coming anyway. Heard he stole a gold watch from 16-B. Just a matter of time before he stole something from me. Now he won’t get the chance.”

I climbed back into the driver’s seat. We pulled out of the parking lot and left the Spring Lodge behind us for the last time.

“Where are you living now? You still in that crappy apartment?”

“Nope,” I said. “Got a nice place on the water.”

ALBERT AND I WALKED DOWN to Dock F. He grabbed my shoulder to steady his legs as its planks swayed under us.

“I’m not liking this,” he said.

“Should have thought about that before getting kicked out of the lodge.”

His grip on my shoulder tightened. “Had I known you lived on a boat, I might have rethunk it. When the hell did you buy this thing?”

“I’m renting. It’s temporary.”

I tossed the suitcases into the back of the boat, climbed in and reached out to help my father. He started to step in, looked at the water below and eased back onto the dock.

“I can’t stay here,” he said.

“Why not? It’s no Graceland, but it’ll do until we find you something else.”

“I don’t like boats. You know I can’t swim.”

I moved the suitcases into the salon. “What do you mean you can’t swim? What about Grandpa’s place in Maine?”

In the sixties, my grandfather bought a one-acre island on Meddybemps Lake, near the eastern coast of Maine. About a half hour’s ride from Eastport. It had a cabin with three bedrooms and a boathouse. There was a small shack on the south side of the island that used to be an icehouse. My grandfather converted that into a small bedroom, so he didn’t have to be in the main cabin with the rest of the family.

The entire property was nothing to write home about, but we always got a kick out of saying we owned an island in Maine. We’d spend a few weeks every summer, hiking, canoeing and fishing. And we were always in the water, my father included.

He looked down at the river. “Maine was different,” he said. “Water was waist deep. And I could always see the bottom. I can’t see the bottom here.”

“It’s the Ohio River, Dad. You couldn’t see the bottom if you were sitting on it.” I extended my hand again. “Now, come on.”

“Don’t matter. Don’t like boats and I don’t like the water. What if a wave knocks me overboard? I’ll drown. Or maybe you’re gone and the boat floats away. What am I supposed to do then?”

“Dad, we’re not in the ocean. No waves. And we’re tethered to the dock. You won’t be floating anywhere.”

My father’s fear of the water aside, he wasn’t the only one concerned about our living accommodations. The boat was fine for me and for the occasional sleepover with Becca, but it was no floating palace. Not fit for two grown men. But for now it had to do. I grabbed my father’s hand and pulled him onto the back of the boat.

“Welcome aboard, mate,” I said tossing him a sun-bleached orange life preserver from the rear storage compartment. “You do realize this is God’s way of punishing you for grabbing an Asian woman’s ass, right?”

“You’re an asshole.”