Page 59 of Boss Witch

Despite himself, Gavin laughed. “Does she know you call trying to date her ‘the Gladys Games’?”

“No, and you’d better not tell her. What’ll you have?” Howard asked, stepping up to place their order.

He got a simple hot tea and a random sandwich. The older man paid and seemed to take it for granted that they’d have lunch together.Is it lunchtime?

Gavin didn’t drag out his mobile, afraid that if he did, his old man would know somehow and there would be more texted demands or worse, a call that left him floundering, since his mind remained uncertain as English weather. Surreptitiously, he pinched a bit of tomato from his sandwich and dropped it into his pocket for Benson. The slight movement told him his little friend appreciated the treat.

“How’s your paper going?” the older man asked.

Right, the alleged reason he was here in the first place.God, I’m so sick of the lies.A torrent of emotions swirled inside him, and he sat quiet for too long.

Howard chuckled. “That bad, huh? You must have writer’s block.”

It was far worse than that, more like coming to a crossroads with no sense of what lay down either path. But what the hell, in absence of wisdom from his grandfather, maybe Howard Carruthers could sub in.

“I might not be cut out for the work I’m currently doing,” he said.

Howard had a cup of black coffee and a bagel he was spreading with cream cheese. “Looking for career advice?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all! Old people love being asked for opinions, means they’re not offering them unsolicited. And it makes us feel like we still have something to contribute.”

“That was never in question,” Gavin said, forcing himself to eat the turkey sandwich.

“What’s the issue then?”

“All along I’ve been living for my father, following what will make him proud and happy. But it’s never been enough. Not once. No matter how I behave, he’s never said, ‘Well done, son, I’m proud of you.’”

“Now you think maybe it’d be better to walk your own path and see where that leads.”

“I’m wondering,” Gavin admitted. “But the problem is, I don’t know anything about that road. I’ve never even glanced in any other direction until now.”

“Then the conflict is certainty versus risk, known versus unknown.” Harold was surprisingly astute for an older man in horn-­rimmed glasses currently sporting cream cheese around his mouth.

“Precisely.”

“I don’t know what relationship you have with your father, so I’ll talk about the one I have with my son. When he was in high school, we fought constantly about him taking over the hardware store. I was dead set that he had to, because it was my life’s work, right? But then I thought long and hard about that.”

“And?” Gavin prompted, becoming slightly interested in where this was going.

“It’s not right, trying to force your children to fulfill your hopes for them. To me, that’s a form of greed. It’s enough for him to be happy. So I told him that, and he left St. Claire for a while. Started a travel blog and had some adventures in the world.”

“Did he come home?”

“In time he did—­with a fine young man as his partner. They’ve got two precious babies now, and they’re running the hardware store. Not because I made it happen, but because he wanted to plant his roots here.” Howard paused to cram the rest of the bagel in his mouth, then he continued in a muffled tone, “My son does the daily operations, and his husband handles publicity. Business is booming. To my mind, things worked out exactly as they should.”

“It sounds like you think Da ought to cut me some slack to figure things out.”

“In the end, it’s up to you whether you stick to the route he mapped for you or if you go off course to see what might be waiting if you’re brave enough to take a chance.”

“You’re an adventurer at heart,” Gavin said.

“Maybe I am.”

In pensive silence, Gavin finished his sandwich and his tea, mulling over what Howard had said. Eventually he pushed to his feet with a nod.

“Thanks for lunch. And for the advice.”

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