September Sky (American Journey Book 1) Read Online Free
Author: John A. Heldt
new-and-improved dad to the Bay Area. When an opportunity arose to get out of his apartment lease on April 30, he jumped on it.
"I found it!" Chuck said as he pulled a cell phone from underneath a pile of clothes. "I was right though. The battery is dead."
"It's no big deal. You can use my phone if you need to make a call," Justin said. "Have you figured out what we're going to do when we get up north?"
"I have. We're going to find jobs. In fact, I may already have one. When you went to visit your advisor, I emailed a former colleague who was just named managing editor of the Blaze . That's a suburban daily based in Marin County. I wrote that I needed a job. He replied that he needed a general assignment reporter. He wants to visit in person a week from Friday, but I think the job is mine for the asking."
"That's great. Does your friend need a mixed up biology major?"
"No. But a new aquatics center in San Francisco needs a dozen lifeguards. I have no doubt that it would snap you up if you applied."
"Sounds like you had a busy morning."
"I did. I decided when we got off the ship that I didn't want to waste another day moping about my problems. So I went online and looked for solutions," Chuck said. He stopped loading books in a box and stared at his son. "I want this arrangement to work, Justin, and I know it won't unless each of us has something productive to do."
"Thanks," Justin said. "Thanks for looking out for me."
"You're welcome."
"Thanks for the other stuff too. Thanks for being a dad this past week. It's been nice having someone to talk to."
Chuck sighed and nodded.
"I feel the same way. Now let's get your things packed and get out of here. What do you want me to do next?"
Justin scanned the room and pointed to several framed pictures that sat atop a small table. They included everything from family portraits to photographs of his baseball teams.
"Why don't you pack those pictures? You can put them in that box by the door."
"Will do," Chuck said.
Justin watched his father start on the photos and then turned his attention to the stuff he should have donated to friends. Who hauled around things like spatulas and dollar-store dishes? He ultimately decided that he did – at least this time – and got off the couch.
Justin didn't make it five feet toward the kitchenware before he glanced back at his dad and saw something that made him stop. Chuck had picked up a portrait of Megan Townsend.
For several seconds, Chuck studied the photograph like it was a priceless artifact – an artifact he knew intimately through years of research but had never actually held in his hands. He ran his fingertip across the picture's protective glass, took a deep breath, and turned away.
"Do you miss her?" Justin asked.
"Of course I miss her."
Justin zeroed in on his father and waited for Chuck to meet his gaze. When he did, he continued a conversation he had wanted to have on the cruise.
"Then why didn't you do more to win her back? She loved you, Dad. That's why she never remarried. She didn't want to settle for the sake of me or anyone else."
"She told you that?"
Justin nodded.
"She told me that several times."
Chuck placed the photo of Megan in a box and looked away again. He stared blankly out an open window at the outside world and perhaps a place that only he could see.
"Your mother was the first woman I fell in love with – and the last," Chuck said. "I cried the day she left. I cried because I knew what I was losing and because I knew I would never change. I failed her, just like I failed you."
Justin paused for a moment to consider the words. He had never heard his dad talk about the day Megan Townsend had walked out of his life. Then again, he had never heard his dad talk about much of anything except politics, work, and baseball.
Justin walked across the room, placed a hand on Chuck's shoulder, and took a long look at the man who continued to stare out the window. Even in the subdued light of the late
"I found it!" Chuck said as he pulled a cell phone from underneath a pile of clothes. "I was right though. The battery is dead."
"It's no big deal. You can use my phone if you need to make a call," Justin said. "Have you figured out what we're going to do when we get up north?"
"I have. We're going to find jobs. In fact, I may already have one. When you went to visit your advisor, I emailed a former colleague who was just named managing editor of the Blaze . That's a suburban daily based in Marin County. I wrote that I needed a job. He replied that he needed a general assignment reporter. He wants to visit in person a week from Friday, but I think the job is mine for the asking."
"That's great. Does your friend need a mixed up biology major?"
"No. But a new aquatics center in San Francisco needs a dozen lifeguards. I have no doubt that it would snap you up if you applied."
"Sounds like you had a busy morning."
"I did. I decided when we got off the ship that I didn't want to waste another day moping about my problems. So I went online and looked for solutions," Chuck said. He stopped loading books in a box and stared at his son. "I want this arrangement to work, Justin, and I know it won't unless each of us has something productive to do."
"Thanks," Justin said. "Thanks for looking out for me."
"You're welcome."
"Thanks for the other stuff too. Thanks for being a dad this past week. It's been nice having someone to talk to."
Chuck sighed and nodded.
"I feel the same way. Now let's get your things packed and get out of here. What do you want me to do next?"
Justin scanned the room and pointed to several framed pictures that sat atop a small table. They included everything from family portraits to photographs of his baseball teams.
"Why don't you pack those pictures? You can put them in that box by the door."
"Will do," Chuck said.
Justin watched his father start on the photos and then turned his attention to the stuff he should have donated to friends. Who hauled around things like spatulas and dollar-store dishes? He ultimately decided that he did – at least this time – and got off the couch.
Justin didn't make it five feet toward the kitchenware before he glanced back at his dad and saw something that made him stop. Chuck had picked up a portrait of Megan Townsend.
For several seconds, Chuck studied the photograph like it was a priceless artifact – an artifact he knew intimately through years of research but had never actually held in his hands. He ran his fingertip across the picture's protective glass, took a deep breath, and turned away.
"Do you miss her?" Justin asked.
"Of course I miss her."
Justin zeroed in on his father and waited for Chuck to meet his gaze. When he did, he continued a conversation he had wanted to have on the cruise.
"Then why didn't you do more to win her back? She loved you, Dad. That's why she never remarried. She didn't want to settle for the sake of me or anyone else."
"She told you that?"
Justin nodded.
"She told me that several times."
Chuck placed the photo of Megan in a box and looked away again. He stared blankly out an open window at the outside world and perhaps a place that only he could see.
"Your mother was the first woman I fell in love with – and the last," Chuck said. "I cried the day she left. I cried because I knew what I was losing and because I knew I would never change. I failed her, just like I failed you."
Justin paused for a moment to consider the words. He had never heard his dad talk about the day Megan Townsend had walked out of his life. Then again, he had never heard his dad talk about much of anything except politics, work, and baseball.
Justin walked across the room, placed a hand on Chuck's shoulder, and took a long look at the man who continued to stare out the window. Even in the subdued light of the late
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