Fathers and Sons

2 - Lost Affection

Marc's tortured expression persisted the whole drive to the church as he contemplated how he should approach his discussion with his son Micah.

He could play down his leaving and forgo giving an exact return date. He'd definitely keep the low probability of him making it home for Christmas to himself and after all that, what was he left with?

A watered-down truth.

He groaned and dragged his hand across his face. How should he do this? The church annex where his son was waiting was drawing closer and so was the dreaded conversation.

It felt like rushing through homework hours before class. In precisely 48 hours, his brother and nephew would arrive and he'd be forced to deal with the consequences of his weeks-long hesistance. He should've talked to his son three weeks ago when he agreed to accompany his nephew, but he reasoned it was too soon and that was his reasoning for the first week and the week after that. But now, with two days left, if he didn't tell him now, he'd have to tell him when they were forced to part. And by then, he wasn't sure if the right words would come out. Confrontation was inevitable and, at this moment, it was heading straight for him.

“Daddy!”

Micah had already spotted his truck from the church courtyard and was rocketing towards him with the wild fury all too common to him.

Despite his prior worries, he couldn't contain his smile seeing his son's exuberance. Parking the truck, he hurried out to meet his son.

“Micah!” He kneeled, bracing for the human torpedo.

And crash. Micah collided into his open arms. He tipped backwards, grunting fiercely to overplay the impact.

“Woah, Micah! You've gotten stronger! What has Nora been feeding you?”

Micah drew back from his arms, displaying intrigue. “Food makes you stronger? What kind of food? Ice cream? Muffins? Cake?”

He chuckled at his six-year old's curiosity. Or maybe that was just his love of sweets.

“Don't you dare pin his strength on me.” A voice called from behind. Marc peered around his son to see a crossarmed Nora strutting towards him. “That's all him. Child has enough energy to power a tram.”

He grinned. “You're probably right.”

“Certainly, Marc. I watch him, after all.” Nora smirked, uncrossing her arms. “But to answer your question, he had bread and stew. Two adult servings. I would be concerned, but it's Micah.”

His smile deflated. “Two?”

She grinned. “Two.”

“So I owe you…?”

“Double.” She waved two fingers towards him.

He sighed, reaching for his wallet.

“You'll drain me dry, Nor.”

“Don't blame me. You're the one who graciously offered to cover all his food expenses.”

“You'd think a nun would be more charitable.”

Nora waved a finger. “Not a nun nor a charity. I have bills to pay, Marc”

He smiled. “I know. And I'm thankful that I can at least ease some of your burden.” He handed her the notes and she counted them with a smile.

“It's my pleasure. He's just my kind of kid. We're like peas in a pod, him and I.”

“I noticed,—Micah, did you thank Nora for watching you?”