the boy’s dad. He released a ragged breath, pulled up his shoulders and headed for the phone.
After finding the number in the phonebook, he punched it in, then waited as the telephone rang. No answer. His hope faded until he eyed his watch again. Phil’s dad had probably left for work and his wife had perhaps driven the boys to school. When the answering machine clicked on, he started to hang up, then heard a hello.
“This is Gary Thornton’s father. I—”
“The boys left for school already, Mr. Thornton.”
“Then Gary did—” He stopped himself, ashamed to admit he hadn’t known that his son had spent the night. “Thanks. I’ll catch him later.”
What kind of a father didn’t know where his kid was? He gripped the receiver, wanting to throw it through the wall, then hung it up, knowing he was angry at himself as much as Gary.
Whose fault was their rotten relationship? Maybe his. He should ask for names and phone numbers of all his son’s friends. He sank onto a kitchen stool and lowered his face in his hands. Lord, give me direction. Help me be the father I should be. I don’t know what to say to Gary or what to do that won’t bring a sneer.
Nick rubbed his face, his appetite gone though he’d eaten little the night before. He pushed away the coffee he’d made, turned off the pot and headed outside. He’d have to deal with the situation the only way he knew how.
Walking down to the boathouse, Nick drew in the spring air, wishing he felt as filled with fresh expectation. Things were growing around him, but his life seemed to have died in a stagnant pool of regret. He could see shades of green burst from the trees after the starkness of winter and he longed to have his life fresh again. He yearned for hope of something new and shining in his life.
Instead, he faced an angry son and an empty bed. Jill had been gone for three years and though their marriage had its bad moments, Nick had prayed they would stick it out and bring their relationship back to life. Since her death his loneliness had never faded, the deep empty space in his heart filled with regret.
Turning the key, Nick heard the motor purr. He steered to the shoreline and docked in Hessel. He located his SUV behind Lindberg Cottages and as he pulled away, he let his attention settle on the Harbor Inn and on the pretty woman with the long, golden-streaked hair. Rona. A pretty name for a pretty lady.
He’d thought of her last night, sitting alone in the quiet house. Why had he been drawn to her? Maybe her generous offer to help Bernie had triggered his admiration. She’d captured his interest and it unsettled him. No woman had cut through his anguish until yesterday and Rona had done it without trying.
Heading for Cedarville and the school, Nick’s mind darkened to his situation with Gary. Being a good business man, he wondered why he couldn’t transfer the talent to raising a son. Each situation took control, planning and wisdom. He’d been trained in the business world. He knew it backward and forward, but he had no training to be a father.
Everything took training and talent. Rona had mentioned she’d been a waitress. She knew the job. That had been obvious.
As he watched her work, he saw she had spirit. He recalled Jill’s lackadaisical approach to life. She wanted him to be more laid-back, but he’d been too honed to a structured work ethic. Now he realized he needed to change.
He had yesterday, sitting around Harbor Inn as if he had scads of time. Nick wondered what drove Rona. The look of concern in her eye when he’d first spoken to her had interested him, because it contrasted to her confidence as she worked.
The thought lingered as he pulled up in front of the school. He turned off the motor and headed inside to the front office. A secretary looked up from her computer. “Can I help you?”
“Attendance. Would you check to see if my son is in school?”
She rose and flagged him behind the counter. “Our attendance lady is down here. She might have the absence slips for this hour.”
He followed her down the hall, then stood beside the desk and waited until the clerk looked up.
“And you are…?” the woman asked, her eyes questioning him.
“Gary Thornton’s dad. I want to make sure he’s in school today.”
She nodded. “I saw him this morning.” She turned to the computer, apparently typing in his name. “He’s in history this hour.” She shuffled through the pink slips and nodded. “He’s not on the absence list, so he must be here. Do you want to speak with him?”
Nick struggled a moment for the answer. “If I could.”
She wrote the room number on a slip of paper and handed it to him.
“Thanks,” he said, clasping the paper and stepping through a door to the hallway. He glanced at the note and grinned. A hall pass. He hadn’t seen one of those since he was in school. He headed to the end of the corridor. H Hall the metal placard said on the wall. Gary was in H109.
Nick eyed the numbers above the doorway. H105. H107. He faltered outside of H109. What now? He could see the teacher pacing in the front of the room through the glass slit in the door. A hum of voices came through the transom. He straightened his back and knocked.
The hum quieted, then raised in volume and he could hear the teacher’s shushing. He watched her head his way and the door opened. She appeared to be surprised to see an adult.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m Gary’s dad. Gary Thornton. Could I speak to him a minute.”
“He’s reviewing for a test, but he can have a minute.”
The door surged closed and Nick felt his heartbeat kick. When the door sprang open again, Gary’s scowl faced him.
“Dad!”
Nick waved to him to close the door, then motioned him to step away from the window. “Where were you last night?”
“Phil’s. He couldn’t get the car to bring me home.”
“Why didn’t you call?”
Gary’s face twisted. “I’m not a child.”
“As long as you live under my roof, you’ll follow my rules, Gary.”
“I can move out.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Oh, so I’m bound to you like a slave.”
Nick’s stomach knotted and he saw he had headed into a direction he hadn’t meant to go. “Gary, look. I don’t want a slave and I don’t want a prisoner. I want a son. I care about you. I was worried until I called Phil’s.”
Gary drew back. “You called Phil’s?”
“Yes. His mother said you’d left for school.”
“Great.” Gary jammed his hands into his pockets. “I suppose you told her I hadn’t gotten permission to stay.”
Nick looked into his eyes. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t want to ruin the trust you have with Phil’s parents.”
Gary’s gaze flickered, as if weighing what Nick had said. Trust. The whole mess was about trust. Nick wanted to trust his son and maybe that’s what he needed. They both needed to earn each other’s trust.
“We can talk later. You’re taking a test. I’m glad you’re in school and I’m glad you’re safe. I lost your—” He shook his head, biting back his words. Nick had lost his wife, but how could he forget Gary had lost a mother. “I lost my temper.”
Gary’s face softened and he lowered his head.
“Go back inside. I’ll see you at home.”
Gary put his hand on the knob, then glanced over his shoulder as he stepped back into the classroom. “Thanks.”