she advised.
“Can you give me one good reason why I should stay?”
“I can give you more than one.”
He snickered and pretended to read the menu. “Did you happen to read the specials on the board when we came in?” he asked in an abrupt change of subject.
“No. Do you want to hear my thoughts or would you rather bury your head in the sand?”
His appetite gone, he set aside the menu. “Do I have a choice?”
“Of course you do.”
Josh would prefer to put his stepfather out of his mind, but he could see that was impossible, especially since Michelle was so keen to see this through.
He folded his arms and leaned back, prepared to listen. She didn’t disappoint him.
“As much as neither one of you wants to admit it, you need each other,” she said point-blank.
Josh nearly laughed out loud. He didn’t need Richard and his stepfather sure as hell didn’t need him. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“You’re all Richard has left in this world …”
“Like he cares,” Josh rebutted. It didn’t matter that Josh was Richard’s last remaining relative.
“And Richard is your last relative, too, and whether you want to admit it or not, the two of you are linked together. Richard is dying, and he’s afraid and alone. He would never ask you to stay but he needs you. And you need him, too. Josh, he’s the only father figure you’ve had in your life, and even if the relationship was a terribly disappointing one, you need to find closure. If you leave now, I’m afraid you’d always regret it.”
Unsure, he mulled over her words.
“By the way,” she added.
He looked up. “Yes?”
“The specials are cream of broccoli for the soup du jour and a shrimp basket for the entrée.” She read off the list that was posted on the countertop and smiled her dazzling smile.
A sudden childhood memory flashed before Josh. He must have been around ten years old at the time; this was before his mother had met Richard. It’d been just the two of them back then and his mother had taken him down to the Saturday farmers’ market on the waterfront. A boat had docked at the marina, selling fresh Hood Canal shrimp.
His mother had bought two pounds and they’d brought the shrimp home and boiled it in a mixture of spices. In all his life, Josh had never tasted more succulent shrimp. The two of them had feasted on the shrimp with homemade hush puppies and fresh coleslaw. Teresa had found some Cajun music and they’d done a silly jig around the living room. It was one of the happiest memoriesof his childhood … a childhood with far too few such memories.
“Josh?”
He looked up from the menu to find Michelle staring at him. “Sorry, my mind wandered away for a moment.” He realized he was too much in the habit of keeping everything to himself and so he described the memory to her. Once again he was reminded of how much his mother had loved Richard.
“What do you remember about your father?” Michelle asked.
Josh guessed she was offering him the opportunity to compare his birth father to his stepfather.
Josh shrugged. “I have only vague recollections of him from when I was small. The only thing I really remember is Dad throwing something at my mother and her screaming, grabbing me, and then running into the bathroom and locking the door.”
Michelle simply shook her head and didn’t comment.
“I never saw him again after that. Well, not that I remember, anyway.”
Michelle placed her hands in her lap. “You’ve never looked him up?”
Josh leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I did when I was discharged from the army. Apparently he died when I was seventeen. It wasn’t that long after I lost my mother … six months I think. He was living somewhere in Texas at the time and had remarried.”
Not once had Teresa said a negative word about Josh’s father. Not a single word. No need really. What little Josh remembered of his father said it all.
The waitress
“Can you give me one good reason why I should stay?”
“I can give you more than one.”
He snickered and pretended to read the menu. “Did you happen to read the specials on the board when we came in?” he asked in an abrupt change of subject.
“No. Do you want to hear my thoughts or would you rather bury your head in the sand?”
His appetite gone, he set aside the menu. “Do I have a choice?”
“Of course you do.”
Josh would prefer to put his stepfather out of his mind, but he could see that was impossible, especially since Michelle was so keen to see this through.
He folded his arms and leaned back, prepared to listen. She didn’t disappoint him.
“As much as neither one of you wants to admit it, you need each other,” she said point-blank.
Josh nearly laughed out loud. He didn’t need Richard and his stepfather sure as hell didn’t need him. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“You’re all Richard has left in this world …”
“Like he cares,” Josh rebutted. It didn’t matter that Josh was Richard’s last remaining relative.
“And Richard is your last relative, too, and whether you want to admit it or not, the two of you are linked together. Richard is dying, and he’s afraid and alone. He would never ask you to stay but he needs you. And you need him, too. Josh, he’s the only father figure you’ve had in your life, and even if the relationship was a terribly disappointing one, you need to find closure. If you leave now, I’m afraid you’d always regret it.”
Unsure, he mulled over her words.
“By the way,” she added.
He looked up. “Yes?”
“The specials are cream of broccoli for the soup du jour and a shrimp basket for the entrée.” She read off the list that was posted on the countertop and smiled her dazzling smile.
A sudden childhood memory flashed before Josh. He must have been around ten years old at the time; this was before his mother had met Richard. It’d been just the two of them back then and his mother had taken him down to the Saturday farmers’ market on the waterfront. A boat had docked at the marina, selling fresh Hood Canal shrimp.
His mother had bought two pounds and they’d brought the shrimp home and boiled it in a mixture of spices. In all his life, Josh had never tasted more succulent shrimp. The two of them had feasted on the shrimp with homemade hush puppies and fresh coleslaw. Teresa had found some Cajun music and they’d done a silly jig around the living room. It was one of the happiest memoriesof his childhood … a childhood with far too few such memories.
“Josh?”
He looked up from the menu to find Michelle staring at him. “Sorry, my mind wandered away for a moment.” He realized he was too much in the habit of keeping everything to himself and so he described the memory to her. Once again he was reminded of how much his mother had loved Richard.
“What do you remember about your father?” Michelle asked.
Josh guessed she was offering him the opportunity to compare his birth father to his stepfather.
Josh shrugged. “I have only vague recollections of him from when I was small. The only thing I really remember is Dad throwing something at my mother and her screaming, grabbing me, and then running into the bathroom and locking the door.”
Michelle simply shook her head and didn’t comment.
“I never saw him again after that. Well, not that I remember, anyway.”
Michelle placed her hands in her lap. “You’ve never looked him up?”
Josh leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “I did when I was discharged from the army. Apparently he died when I was seventeen. It wasn’t that long after I lost my mother … six months I think. He was living somewhere in Texas at the time and had remarried.”
Not once had Teresa said a negative word about Josh’s father. Not a single word. No need really. What little Josh remembered of his father said it all.
The waitress
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