Page 98 of The Cinnamon Bun Book Store
‘Don’t take the Lord’s name, Noah James.’
He huffed. ‘Sorry.’
‘We just shouldn’t take these years for granted. We don’t know how long your father and I will be here...’
‘Mom!’ Kristen’s face was filled with mock horror. ‘Too far.’
‘Really underhanded move,’ Rachel agreed.
‘Well, he hasn’t been home in so long...’
The three women were talking to each other now, each offering ideas on exactly how much guilt should be leveraged to get Noah home, completely ignoring the fact that he was still on the line. His father sat quietly, his gaze on Noah.
‘Hey, Dad.’ He’d only spoken to his dad a few times since he left home. Not for much more than obligatory check-ins his mother orchestrated. And every conversation had felt crowded with all the things they’d never said to each other, all the disappointment Noah was sure his father harbored against him.
‘Hey, Noah. How are things?’
Noah shrugged but then straightened. He wasn’t seventeen anymore. He wasn’t a kid telling his parents he was quitting school. He wasn’t twenty calling them off the coast of Virginia telling them he wasn’t coming back.
‘Things are good. The tours did well this summer. A lot of good word-of-mouth sent groups my way.’
The older man nodded. ‘That’s good.’
‘Yeah, it is.’ The papers were heavy in his hand. He wanted to tell his father more. He wanted to tell him all about his new plans. Maybe even ask for the old man’s help on all this damn paperwork. But he didn’t get the chance.
‘I’m proud of you,’ his father blurted out and all three women were shocked into silence.
‘Uh ... for what?’ Noah dropped into his only chair, laying the paperwork in his lap.
His father cleared his throat. ‘You know, for you ... just because ... I’m just proud of you. You know, the man you’ve become. And all that.’ He cleared his throat again. His father was never cruel to them as children or overly harsh, but this many words strung together about his feelings was ... unusual to say the least.
Noah swallowed.
‘Uh, thank you.’
‘I just wanted you to know. In case you were ... uncertain on that.’
Noah nodded because that was all he could manage at the moment. How was it that even at this age, his father’s approval could still mean so much? He didn’t know but it really did.
‘Oh. Yeah. I ... uh ... maybe I was uncertain on that.’ Noah cleared his throat. ‘So ... uh ... thanks for clearing that up.’
His father nodded again but his mother’s eyes were filled with tears. ‘See!’ she said, her hands clasped in front of her. ‘Was that so hard?’
‘What about me, Dad?’ Kristen wrapped her arms around their dad’s shoulders from where she sat perched behind him. ‘Are you proud of me, too?’ she teased.
‘Yeah, I don't think you’ve told me that lately either.’ Rachel nudged him from the other side and their dad harrumphed good naturedly.
‘I’m proud of all my pain-in-the-ass offspring. There. How’s that?’
‘So beautiful.’ Kristen gave him a squeeze.
‘Thanks, Dad,’ Rachel laughed.
It was their mother’s turn to roll her eyes. ‘You’re all ridiculous.’
And as Noah sat there, watching his family teasing each other he could almost smell his mom’s apple pie. He could hear the sound of the football game blaring from the living room. He could see his nieces running wild while his brother-in-law attempted in vain to wrangle them.
For the first time in a long time, Noah let himself feel homesick. He’d ignored it for so long, pushed it down and denied it, always managed to have some stranger in his bed on all major family holidays, that the feeling now was overwhelming. It washed over him, strong and fierce like a sudden storm.
