Page 126 of Goode Tidings

"Have a lot to learn? I know." He gives me an exasperated look. "Loosen that hold a little."

Ah, there he is. The Justin I'm used to. Sarcastic and a tad patronizing. I guess it's a good thing. Can't trust a person who changes overnight.

Justin opens the door and steps inside. Oliver lies in bed on his back. His eyes are closed, but when he hears movement at the door, he opens his eyes.

"Hey, Dad," he says, voice craggy with sleep.

"Hey, bud," Justin says, striding in. He grabs the back of Oliver's desk chair and flips it around, placing it beside the bed and dropping down onto it. "You sound thirsty."

Oliver looks at the cup of water I placed on his nightstand. "Mom brought me water," he says, rolling slightly to his right and trying to push up to a seated position.

I lurch forward out of the doorway, but Justin's there first, gently assisting Oliver to sitting. He offers him the cup of water.

Oliver drinks deeply, running the back of his hand over a drop that's rolling down his chin. When he's finished, Justin places the cup back on the nightstand.

"So, you're still here," Oliver says, eyes on his bedspread.

"Yeah," Justin says. He doesn't sound petulant or defensive, like he has in the past. "Is that ok with you?"

Oliver shrugs. "I guess so. When are you leaving?"

Oh, my boy. Oliver isn't just curious about the length of his dad's stay. He's seeking information so he can prepare himself for Justin's eventual departure.

Justin probably doesn't understand this. I don't think he knows just how hurtful his erratic and unsteady presence has been for Oliver. After all this time, I'm starting to see that maybe Justin doesn't know how much he matters to Oliver. How deeply his dad's voice has been in his ear all this time.

"If it's all right with you, I'd like to be here from now on."

Oliver looks up in surprise. Between his rumpled hair and the sleep crusted in the corner of his eye, he could be a small child again, clinging to the stuffed giraffe he loved so dearly.

"Here, like in this cabin?" Oliver asks, glancing at me.

Justin shakes his head. "I'll keep my place in Phoenix, and live there. But I'll be up here a lot. Oliver, I—" Justin cuts off. Spends a moment gathering himself. "I want to be a person you can count on. I haven't been, and I know that. I can't change what I did, or didn't do, but I hope you'll see that I mean what I'm saying."

Oliver eyes him. He's not jumping for joy, but he's not totally disbelieving. Children are resilient, and generally want to forgive their parents. I, too, would've forgiven my dad if he'd come back when I was fourteen. Now, as an adult, I'd tell him no way in hell if he showed up in my life.

"Why do you go away?" Oliver asks. The question is blunt and swift, piercing the heart of the matter.

Justin runs a hand through his messy hair. "My dad wasn't very nice, and I think a lot of my life has been lived in response to him. But that's on me. It's not his fault I've chosen to be a shithead."

I sigh. "Justin."

Oliver laughs. Justin looks over his shoulder at me, grinning slyly.

"You can come around more," Oliver says, his words snagging Justin's gaze.

The backs of my eyes burn, and I take it as my cue to leave.

Justin stays in Oliver's room, and I retreat to the kitchen table where my laptop sits closed beside Callum's computer screens.

The computer springs to life as I open it, glowing with the backend of my new website.

Eden Paper Co.

Excitement flutters in my stomach at the logo, and the banner running across the top of the page.

I've played it safe for so long. Done everything I could to make sure I was providing safety and stability for myself and Oliver.

Going out on my own is a risk, but it's not so daunting now that I have the support around me.