He approached the door to his dad’s office quietly, not wanting to disturb Jenn from her work, even though necessity dictated that he would; it didn’t mean he had to want to. She was not going to be happy when she heard his news.

He peeked in to find her bent over the desk, her back to the door, mumbling as she ran the adding machine, the tape spitting out the top and curling every which way over the scarred desktop. The clanking noises from the calculator reminded him so much of his dad. He blinked, and there was his father, his reading glasses on the end of his nose, mumbling to himself as he fed numbers into the adding machine, his shoulders stooped with age and pain.

A stab of heartache tore through Stetson and he gasped at the pain. He missed his father so damn much somet...

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