17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Silas

When Ella called and told me everything about her family meeting, I was a little floored but after a while thinking about it, it makes sense. Mr. Marshall wants what is best for his kids, but he also wants to live as normal a life as he can. I'm not surprised Ella wants to spend time with her family, but now that I have no excuse to disappear from the house again, I'm left with the certainty that I have to talk to my father.

Dad is in his office taking a break from decorating for the party while Mom is out picking up more food. Sweet and Salty closed at noon so they could prepare. Almost everyone in Coldstone Creek will show up at my parents' house to ring in the new year together. It's almost insane to think about, but hundreds of people crowd the house, the yards, and even the neighbors' yards but everyone loves it. My parents have been the town darlings since before any of us were born, and it doesn't seem like they'll ever slow down.

One knock on Dad's office door, and it swings open wide. When he sees me his shoulders relax and his expression melts back into something calm instead of one of pure terror.

"Uh, do you have a minute?" I ask, wondering why he seems so on edge.

"Yes, sure. Come in. I was hiding for a few minutes. These parties are still a little…" He fades and waits for me to fill in the blank.

"Fun?"

He chuckles and sits on the sofa in his office. "I was going to say stressful, but they are fun. It's hard for me to adjust until about halfway through."

I'd all but forgotten how much of an introvert my father is. His and Mom's story comes back to me and I smile. Dad's first wife died, and when he met Mom, he was closed off and looking for anything but love. Mom worked her charms on him and drew him in, and now he's strapped with ten bratty boys. My grin gets wider but it doesn't last for long. I remember why I knocked when he motions for me to sit.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asks. He has Dad tone which means he already has some inclination that things aren't going well. He knows I'm not doing great in school, hence my tutoring sessions with Ella, which have been more like begging her to come back to me sessions instead. What he doesn't know is that I have no intention of going back to school. I can't. I just…can't.

I sit and try to drum up a speech, something I should have done before approaching him. "Uh, it's about school, Dad. I, um, I'm not doing well at all. It isn't because I don't study," I say, putting both hands up in defense. "I didn't study in high school, but I promise I'm working hard now. It's…" I fade and move my hands around the same way he did, working to find the right words to tell him that his job bores me to tears.

"Silas," he says with a sigh, "I know you don't like it. I was waiting for you to come to me about it."

"You were?"

He shrugs. "It's not for everyone. It can be monotonous but there are exciting things about my job that I like. I get to have wonderful conversations with everyone in town and find ways to help them financially. I love my work. It's a mission for me, but God calls us all to do different things with our lives."

"So, you're not mad?" I start to ease back into the seat a little.

"I'm not mad, son. I want you to do the thing that makes you passionate to get up and get to it every morning. I'm sad you won't be working with me, but I do understand. I can hire someone to help me. It's not a problem."

I sigh with relief and lean all the way back into the seat. "I'm still sorry about it. For what it's worth, I wanted to like it. I still like the idea of working with you. I'm just not good at numbers and sitting still."

Dad settles deeper into the sofa and crosses his arms, relaxed. "What do you like to do?"

I shrug. "I dunno, really. I like when my work changes a lot. I can't focus when it stays the same. Wilder suggested that I write down everything I like to do and figure out how to make it a job but I haven't made those connections yet."

Dad nods a little and chews the inside of his cheek. After a few seconds, he clears his throat. "I know Pastor Scott offered you the mission trip to Alaska."

My heart speeds up and I jerk my head to face him. "What?"

"He approached me about it first. He understood the issues you going to Romania caused and he didn't want to create a divide in the family. I gave him my blessing to present it to you, primarily because you're an adult now and should have the benefit of making those choices for yourself, but also because I have faith in your heart, Silas."

My lips part but I can't think of anything to say.

"That being said, he called me a little while ago looking for you. We chatted, and I asked him if I could be the one to make you a different offer."

"This morning he told me he had another idea. Is this what he was talking about?" I ask, my heart hammering my ribcage so hard it hurts. I almost can't breathe, worried about what might come out of my father's mouth next. Alaska is a big deal, one that Ella seems ready to work through with me, but even if I take it, what happens when I return? Do I keep traveling around? Do I find steady work somewhere? What do I do with my life?

"It is." Dad leans forward, about to make his pitch. "He spoke with Judson Baker about the Alaska trip as well. Judson has been seeking mission work for a while, and Pastor Scott thought this might work for him, too."

My heart doesn't sink like I thought it would. Alaska is a great opportunity, but it also comes with its fair share of issues. I find I'm not at all sad that Judson might go instead.

"Judson is very interested, but obviously he can't leave his grandfather to work the farm alone. Officer Baker wants to hire you as a farmhand, full time, for as long as you want to work for him."

"Wait, what?" I ask, my heart racing even faster.

Dad smiles. "You love working on the farm, son. Judson wants to be a cop, pure and simple. The mission trip is a whole other thing for him, but ultimately, he doesn't want to split his time between farming and being a cop."

"Right, I know that. Novan once told me Judson had a hard time telling his grandfather back when he first joined the police academy."

Dad nods again. "Right, mostly because Baker's son had already declined to inherit the farm. Judson was the next logical person to take over. Ultimately, Baker understood. He's fine with Judson going to Alaska, like I'm fine with you pursuing work that is better for you than accounting."

"But isn't that hard? I mean, we're your sons. You wanted to pass your hard work down to us."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "Nah. I mean, in some ways yes. It took me a long time to build this business, but what I really want you to inherit from me is a strong sense of duty, reliability, honesty, and above all, a desire for family and God, Silas. You do that, and I'll always be proud of you."

"I guess Judson took after his father and grandfather with policing though. Dad, I don't want to disappoint you anymore," I say.

He scooches forward on the sofa, almost coming off of it to get close enough to me so that I see he means business. "Silas, hear me when I say this. You have never been a disappointment to me or your mother. You've been hard to raise, a little pain in the rear sometimes, but we love you and are not disappointed. Sometimes it takes a while to work things out, and truthfully, I admire your wild side. You live from moment to moment, and God made you that way for a reason." He shrugs. "We can't all be quiet and studious. How boring would that be?"

Relief floods my body and I realize he's right. The farm keeps me focused and settles my mind like no other work ever has. And knowing he supports me soothes the last of my worries.

"The farm will be good for you. Baker said if you're up for it, he'll train you so that one day, maybe you can buy it and have it for your own."

Again, I'm floored. "He'll sell it to me?"

"If you want it, yes."

The first thing I want to do is hug my father. I stand and he meets me, engulfing me in a huge bear hug. He pats my back and squeezes harder. "I love you, Silas. Don't ever forget that."

I nod into his shoulder and he releases me.

"Now, about Ella." His tone is teasing, but there's some interest as well.

"Believe it or not, things are going well. Her father has early onset dementia…you probably know that, though."

"I've heard, yes. Abbie asked me to do their taxes last year and she mentioned it. The town is trying to give them space, but I wonder if what they need is support."

I run my hands through my hair to calm myself. "Maybe. She called a bit ago. He told Abbie and her that he wants to live in an assisted community a little outside of town. She's having a hard time but it's probably a good idea."

"I don't have to tell you this, but I will anyway. If she's letting you back in and giving you another chance, pray hard about it, Silas. This transition will be hard for both of the Marshall girls."

"I know," I say, biting my lip. "I've already told Abbie when spring comes, I'll help them out with repairs on the house, assuming they keep it."

"Either way, I'm sure they'll need it done. Your mother and I adore Ella. Your mother cried big old fat tears when you two broke up. I don't think she could handle it if you split again, and if you make your mother cry again I'll have to hurt you." He arches a dark eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah. If this is your way of asking me what my plans are, you can relax. If she'll have me, my plan is to marry her and have a zillion kids like you and Mom."

Dad's laughter carries into the hallway, so when Lev, Beck, and Novan enter, I'm not surprised.

"What's got you two laughing?" Novan asks, falling onto Dad's sofa.

Wilder wanders in behind them and leans on the doorframe. "Probably talking about how annoying it is that Silas thought anyone in this house actually believed he wanted to be an accountant."

"Hey! I did," I say, but I can't keep a straight face. Some part of me did, but looking back, it was more the thought of spending time with my father than the actual work that drew me in. It isn't often we get one on one time with Dad, but he winks at me and shakes his head, and I know all I ever have to do is ask.

We got lucky. Somehow, ten boys ended up in the right place, a next to perfect home with two amazing parents who constantly show us what love, commitment, loyalty, and persistence look like.

The front door shuts and Mom shouts, "Boys, I have cinnamon rolls!"

Everyone rushes from the office, leaving Dad and me alone. He nods toward the door. "Let's go before they're all gone, but Silas, I am proud of you. If working the farm is what you want, I support it completely. And if Ella is your future, your mom and I will be over the moon."

He wraps an arm around my shoulder and smacks my back as I pass.

"Thanks, Dad," I whisper, unashamed that tears prick my eyes.