Page 94 of Welcome to Forever
“Nothing at all,” his father agreed. “Come on in. Ben, I have a new train for my set.”
Ben was smiling again. Micah picked up the back of the chair and lifted it to the top of the steps, giving it a push to get him rolling toward the front door. When Ben was safely inside, he went back for the cooler of fish. They’d eat fish, drink a few beers, and then he’d tell the old man what he probably didn’t want to hear. He was getting out of the Marine Corps.
He’d never intended to be a career Marine. He was landscaping for Seaside Elementary and the local cemetery already. A few other locals had contracted him as well and last week, out of nowhere, the mayor’s assistant had called to tell him that Mayor Flowers was interested in hiring him for their home. Landscaping was becoming a full-time job, and it was something he enjoyed.
Micah stood in the doorway and watched as Ben’s face lit up. His father pushed a button on the remote control in his hand and the model train’s lights flickered on and off.
“Let me try! Let me try!” Ben begged, taking the remote from his grandfather.
Okay, so maybe the old man had an appreciation for happiness, too, somewhere in that icy heart of his. Maybe he’d understand.
And maybe the Queen of England would show up for their fish fry tonight.
Micah headed toward the kitchen to start filleting. Five minutes later, the kitchen door swung open behind him. “He okay?” Micah asked, recognizing the heavy sound of his father’s footsteps.
“He’s with my trains. He’s fine.” His father started digging through the cabinets and pulled out some seafood seasoning. “I’m glad you came. I was beginning to wonder if you were avoiding me.”
Micah gave a hard shake of his head. “Not avoiding you. Just doing my job.”
“Speaking of which.” His father glanced over his shoulder at Micah.
Micah watched from the corner of his eye, keeping his hand steady and continuing to fillet. “What?”
“There’s a promotion with your name on it, but it would mean moving to Fort Goodman. I told Colonel Hampton you’d gladly go.”
Micah set his knife down now, keeping his gaze low and bracing his hands on the granite countertop in front of him. “I don’t want it.”
His father turned and leaned against the counter, folding his arms stiffly at his chest. “I know you like it here. You have that woman friend and—”
“The answer’s no, Dad,” Micah said through tight lips.
His father stood erectly and pointed a finger. “Don’t forget, I’m also your commanding officer. If I think this is what’s best for your career, then I can say yes and send you the damn-hell where I want to send you.”
“You can’t force me to reenlist, though.” Micah faced him now, working hard not to smile as he said it.
His father was as hard as a statue, revealing no emotion in his face. “You are reenlisting,” he said coldly. “You’re not just going to throw away your life over some hobby. Is that what this is about? The landscaping thing?”
Micah shook his head. “I’m not throwing away anything. This is my life, and I’ll do with it what I want. It’s not my problem if you think it’s a waste.” He headed for the kitchen door. There was no way he was going to stick around with his father’s oversized ego filling the room. They could talk about his later, when his father had calmed down.Ifhe ever calmed down.
“Where are you going? You’re not leaving while I’m still talking to you,” his father barked.
When Micah was a kid, his old man would’ve pushed him against the wall. He’d never hit him, but Colonel Peterson believed in force.Not this time.“Come on, Ben. We’ll cook our fish at home.”
Ben’s eyes widened as his mouth fell open. “But I want to eat with Grandpa.”
“Another time, bud. It’s our father-son day, remember?” Micah started pushing Ben’s chair forward, feeling his father’s eyes behind him, boring into the back of his skull.
Well, that had gone as well as could be expected.
When Ben was strapped in the Jeep, Micah got behind the wheel and started to pull away.
“Dad?”
Micah’s gaze flitted toward the rearview mirror. “Yeah?”
“Grandpa looks sad.”
They both looked at the colonel, standing on the front porch with his arms folded and his chin lifted high.
