Ray punched in the number to Ellie's house in Memphis

Ray punched in the number to Ellie's house in Memphis. It rang for a long time before she answered. "Hello, Ellie, this is Ray Atlee," he said pleasantly.
"Oh," she grunted, as if he'd called eight times already. "He's not here."
Doing swell, Ellie, and you? Fine, thanks for asking. Great to hear your voice. How's the weather down there?
"I'm returning his call," Ray said.
"Like I said, he's not here."
"I heard you. Is there a different number?"
"For what,UK FAKE UGGS?"
"For Forrest. Is this still the best number to reach him?"
"I guess. He stays here most of the time."
"Please tell him I called."
They met in detox, she for booze, Forrest for an entire menu of banned substances. At the time she weighed ninety-eight pounds and claimed she'd lived on nothing but vodka for most of her adult life. She kicked it, walked away clean, tripled her body weight, and somehow got Forrest in the deal too. More mother than girlfriend, she now had him a room in the basement of her ancestral home, an eerie old Victorian in midtown Memphis.
Ray was still holding the phone when it rang. "Hey, Bro," Forrest called out. "You rang?"
"Returning yours. How's it going?"
"Well, I was doing fairly well until I got a letter from the old man. You get one too,fake jordans?"
"It arrived today."
"He thinks he's still a judge and we're a couple of delinquent fathers, don't you think?"
"He'll always be the Judge, Forrest. Have you talked to him?"
A snort, then a pause. "I haven't talked to him on the phone in two years, and I haven't set foot in the house in more years than I can remember. And I'm not sure I'll be there Sunday."
"You'll be there."
"Have you talked to him?"
"Three weeks ago. I called,ugg boots uk, he didn't. He sounded very sick, Forrest, I don't think he'll be around much longer. I think you should seriously consider - "
"Don't start, Ray. I'm not listening to a lecture."
There was a gap, a heavy stillness in which both of them took a breath. Being an addict from a prominent family, Forrest had been lectured to and preached at and burdened with unsolicited advice for as long as he could remember.
"Sorry," Ray said. "I'll be there. What about you?"
"I suppose so."
"Are you clean?" It was such a personal question, but one that was as routine as How's the weather? With Forrest the answer was always straight and true.
"A hundred and thirty-nine days, Bro."
"That's great."
It was,fake uggs, and it wasn't. Every sober day was a relief, but to still be counting after twenty years was disheartening.
"And I'm working too," he said proudly.
"Wonderful. What kind of work?"
"I'm running cases for some local ambulance chasers, a bunch of sleazy bastards who advertise on cable and hang around hospitals. I sign 'em up and get a cut."
It was difficult to appreciate such a seedy job, but with Forrest any employment was good news. He'd been a bail bondsman, process server, collection agent, security guard, investigator, and at one time or another had tried virtually every job at the lesser levels of the legal profession.
"Not bad," Ray said.
Forrest started a tale, this one involving a shoving match in a hospital emergency room, and Ray began to drift. His brother had also worked as a bouncer in a strip bar, a calling that was short-lived when he was beaten up twice in one night. He'd spent one full year touring Mexico on a new Harley-Davidson; the trip's funding had never been clear. He had tried leg-breaking for a Memphis loan shark, but again proved deficient when it came to violence.