Suppression by Laramie Briscoe

Author:Laramie Briscoe
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Laramie Briscoe Books

Fourteen

Ryan (Renegade)

As soon as I see my son walk through the doors of my shop, I know something’s wrong. His shoulders are dejected, his eyes have an anger in them I haven’t seen in years. I’m worried, even though I know he’s a man now. Hell, he’s been a man since he was a teenager. I still worry though, really worry that he’ll never be able to overcome the way he was brought into this world.

“Hey, Dad.” He waves slightly before turning to shut the door.

“Hey,” I answer back, not stopping the crib I’m working on.

“Did Stella and Ransom tell you?” He nods to the piece in front of me.

I can’t help the wide smile that spreads across my face. “Yeah, shoulda known they told you first. You and Stella have always had a close relationship.”

“We have.” He walks over to the refrigerator I keep in here.

Carefully I watch him open the door, pull a beer out, then come sit down on one of the empty benches. He’s still in full gear, and no matter how badly I want to press him, I know I shouldn’t. We’re quiet for what feels like a million years. Him slowly sipping on the bottle, me sanding away at the crib that my grandchild will lay in at night. I’m waiting until they tell me if it’s a boy or a girl, then I’ll paint it.

Stealing a look at Nick, I wonder when he’ll be ready to talk. “You know,” I start off in the quietness of the room. “I remember when you first moved in. You’d come out here and watch me work all the time. This had always been such a private thing for me. While your mom and Stella love the things I’ve made for them, they’ve never watched me work. At first, I found it disconcerting that you watched me, then I got used to it. When you asked me to teach you to do all this stuff, I was so excited because I had someone else who would love what I love,” I grunt out as I turn a screw. “Then when you moved out, it was back to this solitary thing again. I have to admit – I’ve missed having you out here, watching me.”

“It fascinated me,” Nick says softly. “To watch you do something with your hands like that. You never forced a board in where it didn’t go, never got angry when you measured something wrong, and laughed if the color you painted something was completely wrong. You have to understand, I came from a home where strong hands meant bruises. Then when you started to teach me, I loved you even more, because you showed me what I could do with my frustration. There’ve been many times, even today when I’ve taken a frustrating day out on some wood working project.”

I turn around to face him. “You always used to come out here, too, because you had a lot on your mind. So why don’t you tell me what’s happening, and maybe I can help you.

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