“Was afraid I’d never ... see you again.” His father closed his eyes. His voice was much weaker. “So ... glad you came.”
Nick could see that his father was exhausted and got to his feet. “Why don’t you rest? I’ll come back in a little while, and we can talk more.”
His father nodded. “Must say this ... first.” He paused, and his eyes widened as if to see Nick more clearly. “I hold ... abiding love for you ... my son.”
Nick bent down and kissed his father for the very first time in his life. “And I for you, Father.”
After he’d settled in his room, Nick decided to stretch out on the bed for a few minutes. The twenty-some hours of travel and layovers had taken all of his energy, and even though it was breakfast time and he was starved, sleep appealed more. A short nap would refresh him.
When he woke and found the sun setting, Nick couldn’t believe he’d slept so long. Someone had thoughtfully lit a lamp and turned it down low, and covered him with a heavy quilt. No doubt that had been Mrs. Schmitt. There was also a pitcher of water sitting in a beautiful porcelain basin of matching design. A towel was folded neatly beside it.
Nick washed off some of the travel grime. He went to the wardrobe, wondering what he might find there. To his surprise, the clothes from his duffel had been pressed and hung up. He pulled out a clean shirt and donned it before heading downstairs to speak to Mrs. Schmitt before visiting his father again.
He found her in the dining room. She must have heard him stirring, because she was setting a plate of food on the table.
“I knew you’d probably be hungry,” she said as he entered the room.
He glanced around the elaborate dining room. His mother had ordered the walls papered in a beautiful gold and mauve. The rug had been specially woven to the precise measurements of the room, and the enormous mahogany table could seat forty when all of its leaves were in place. For now, it was better suited to no more than a dozen. In the ornate marble-framed fireplace, someone had built an ample fire to warm the room. It reminded him of days before his mother died. She had loved to have dinner parties, and even though the children weren’t invited, Nick had often seen the servants putting the room together for such events.
“I’m hardly dressed for dinner,” he said.
“No one here dresses for dinner anymore,” Mrs. Schmitt declared. “Since your father fell ill, no one has even used this room.”
“Perhaps I should just eat in the kitchen.”
“That would hardly be appropriate. You’ll soon enough be master of the house.”
Nick had just pulled out the chair by the plate of food and stopped. “I was disowned.”
“You were reinstated,” Mrs. Schmitt said, smiling. “Three weeks ago, Mr. Clark called the lawyers and had a meeting. It was the last time he was out of bed, but he was most assuredly in his right mind. Your sisters and their husbands were present, as was I. I think he wanted me to be there so I would write to you about it, but then he fell so gravely ill that I forgot.”
“My sisters know I’ve been reinstated in our father’s estate? How did they receive the news?”
Mrs. Schmitt looked at him rather oddly. “They were happy. Deborah wept. I think Miriam did as well, but she’s so private with her feelings.”
Nick was deeply touched. He’d never known how his sistersfelt about any of this, because he’d never written to them to ask. Mrs. Schmitt had told him of their affairs, but Nick never asked her to relay any of his actions to them.
“Will you join me?” he asked, looking at the abundance of food.
She smiled. “I will.” She gathered another place setting and then took the chair to his right.
Nick prayed a blessing, and then they began to eat and talk about all the years that had separated them. All the while, Nick was aware of the man dying upstairs. How amazing that God could bring them together again. Had he not come home, he might never have had the chance to make things right.
“What caused Father’s change of heart?”
Mrs. Schmitt shook her head. “I can’t really say. I personally think it was staring death in the face. He talked very little of you after you left. One day I received a letter from you. I accidentally left it on the mantel. When I remembered and went to retrieve it, I found your father reading it. I thought he might throw it in the fire afterwards, but instead he refolded it and placed it back on the fireplace ledge. I was so surprised, but he seemed quite content. So the next time you wrote, I left the letter there again. It wasn’t long before he found it and read it.”
“He said he read them all. I suppose I’m glad he did.”
“I think he needed to. You spoke of your sorrow in disappointing him, as well as your love of sailing. I think with their blend of homesick moments and self-doubt, as well as the pride in your accomplishments and interesting adventures, he looked forward to them just as much as I did. I think they also helped him better know you as a son.”
“I’m sure you’re right. I just never imagined I would come home to his welcome. I didn’t even dare pray for it.”
Mrs. Schmitt smiled. “Well, I did.”
After supper, Nick went to his father’s room with his Bible in hand. His father was awake, as if he were waiting for Nick. He seemed stronger, more like his old self, but a kinder version.
“I thought maybe I had just dreamed you were here, but Perkins, my valet, assured me you had really come.”
