Page 62 of Every Star that Shines

As Marcus sat down, he winced, but that wasn’t terribly unusual these days, either. Caleb pretended not to notice and took the chair on the far side next to his father.

“What brings you here so early on a Sunday?” Marcus asked, closing his magazine and pulling the plate of breakfast directly in front of him.

Caleb ran his hand through his hair, gathering his thoughts. His mother brought over his coffee and set it on the table before him, along with some cream and sugar and a teaspoon, and he smiled his thanks.

“I’ve got a bit of a dilemma that I’m hoping you two can help with.”

“Oh?” Adelaide picked up another mug from the butcher block island top for herself, then came and sat across from Caleb next to her husband. “Everything okay?”

No. No, it most definitely is not.

“It’s not Emma, is it?” Adelaide prompted, worry in her eyes.

“No, she’s fine. It’s not about her. Not exactly.” He poured some cream in his coffee and stirred. “But it kind of is.”

“C’mon, son,” Marcus teased gruffly. “Out with it. I’m not getting any younger.”

Caleb drew a deep breath, then launched into his explanation—about how he’d been trying to figure out how to make sure he got to see both Delanie and Emma on a regular basis, but then Monica declared she was taking Emma to Ontario. About how Delanie had broken up with him without even trying to work anything out. About how he thought he would have to move to Ontario too, but he was worried about the farm.

As he spoke, his mom listened with sympathetic murmurs of acknowledgement, and Marcus quietly ate his eggs and bacon, though Caleb knew he was paying just as much attention. When Caleb mentioned the farm, Marcus’s head snapped up.

“What about the farm?”

Caleb shifted uncomfortably. “You know. If I’m not here, who’s going to help you out?”

Marcus cocked his head. “You’re not the only able-bodied man around these parts. And I’m not that feeble just yet.” He frowned at Adelaide. “Have you been talking to him? Is that why the boy almost killed himself to bring in the harvest with us this fall? I told you, I’m fine.”

“So you keep saying,” Adelaide said. “But if Caleb is concerned, it’s not because of me. I’m not the only one with eyes around here.” She took a sip of her coffee, studying the wood grain of the tabletop.

“No one thinks you’re feeble, Dad,” Caleb said dryly. “But you and I both know how much work it is running the farm. I know Oliver helps out, but he wasn’t born to it like I was. I just don’t want to leave you in the lurch if I end up moving somewhere else.”

“Well, I appreciate your concern, just like I have appreciated all your help over the years.” Marcus sighed, pushing away his empty breakfast plate. He crossed his arms on the table in front of him. “The truth is, I’ve started wondering if it might be time for me to pass the farm on to someone else. The problem is, I feel too young to call it quits here and too old to consider a career change. But I know even you don’t really want to take over for me. Maybe it’s time to sell.” He sighed. “Never thought I’d say that. I thought I’d keep working the fields until someone pulled my stiff, wrinkled corpse from a tractor seat.”

Caleb stared at Marcus in shock. “Are you sure, Dad?”

“No, not really. But sometimes, reality makes your choices for you. Now, don’t you two get all mother-hen-like, but this year’s harvest was harder than usual on me too. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“But . . . where will you live? What will you do?” Caleb glanced at Adelaide, but she just kept drinking her coffee, watching the two of them. She and Dad had obviously had this conversation already.

“I’ll still drive logging trucks in the winter for a while, I imagine,” Marcus said. “And we’ve got a decent savings put aside. Your mother keeps telling me I should sell some of my rock art, but I don’t know about that.”

Caleb glanced at his mother, then back. “I think that’s a great idea.”

Marcus shook his head as though he didn’t want to entertain such a foolish notion. “Point is, we’ll be fine. But I thought you came here to talk about where you’re going to live, and what you’re going to do about the pickle you find yourself in.”

“I did, but . . .” Caleb had so many worries and questions in the face of this new development, he wasn’t ready to move on yet.

“Son, we’ll be fine,” Marcus said. “God’s never let us down yet. I don’t think he intends to start now.”

Adelaide took Marcus’s hand and squeezed it, and he returned her affectionate smile. Then she turned to Caleb.

“Besides, you’ve already given up enough of your own happiness for us and this farm. I think it’s about time you started chasing after your own future instead of ours.”

Caleb swallowed. He wanted to object to his mother’s observation about the happiness he had given up, but the words stuck in his throat. Yes, Emma made him happy. But his mother was right—he had been using his daughter and his parents and this farm as an excuse for not getting on with his life for too long. He’d even hidden behind his feelings for Delanie. It was time to stop living in the past and make the right decision for his future.

Which, now that he and Delanie had broken up, was to be the best dad he could be.

“So you’re okay with me moving to Ontario?” he asked.

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