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“This place never looked better. I like having my sons around.”
Doyle turned and found his father carrying an old green thermos under his arm, a couple plastic cups, and two muffins wrapped in napkins. He set the thermos on the back wheel rim of a nearby four-wheeler and handed Doyle a muffin. “Your mother worries. Says you’re too skinny.”
Doyle laughed and opened the muffin. “Raspberry?”
“With white chocolate. She’s trying a new recipe. Don’t argue.”
Doyle sat on the chopping log. “Nope.” He bit into the muffin. “It’s good.”
“Leave some of this chopping for your old man; otherwise, I’m going to get fat.” He winked and sat on the seat of the four-wheeler. “So, you ready to talk about it?”
Doyle looked up, then at the lake.
“Stein told us a little. Said that it was the first time since your life imploded that he’d seen the old Doyle. Or maybe a new Doyle—you tell me.”
“I dunno, Dad.” He picked at the muffin. “I went to Mariposa because I thought it was time to get moving, find a fresh start.”
His dad was soft-spoken and wise, a man who listened, and always reminded Doyle a little of an older Russell Crowe—sturdy, salt-and-pepper hair. Now, he set down his muffin and poured Doyle a cup of coffee. Handed it over.
Doyle took it. “The problem is that...” He sighed. “I guess I always saw myself doing something... big for God. And now I’m just... chopping wood.”
“You and Juliet had a big future planned.”
“Yeah. By the way, how’d Conrad’s game go yesterday? The Blue Ox still in the playoffs?”
“Yep. And he scored a goal. Top of his game this year.” His father took a sip of coffee. “So—you didn’t find your big life in Mariposa?”
“I don’t know.”
“Stein mentioned a woman. Tia?”
Doyle’s mouth tightened, and he sighed.
“Oh, I see. Juliet get in the way?”
His expression must have betrayed him.
His father nodded. “She’ll always be a part of you, son. Your first love. Any good woman will understand that.”
“I think she does. But that’s not why...” Why she’d pushed him away.Sheesh,he should just accept that.
Tia didn’t want him. And of course her words raked through his head.“You have been more than I imagined. But maybe that’s all this was. A jumpstart—a reminder that there is more. Like you said, the fresh start. It just isn’t the happy ending.”
“Why... ?”
He looked at his father. “Right. So, she told me that I’d left a part of myself in that lake?—”
His father frowned.
“Not Juliet—but maybe my calling. My future.”
His father took another sip of coffee. “Death does that—it cuts off our vision. I remember when your grandmother died. Your grandfather was absolutely lost. I’d find him standing in his bathrobe on the front lawn, just staring out at the lake. It took a while for him to figure out who he was without her.” He finished off his muffin. “I don’t think he ever really did—although it helped when he realized he could pour himself into you kids.”
“I thought I could pour myself into Hope House. I just felt so... Well, I’m grateful for my time here, but I wanted to start moving forward again. And I thought...” He too finished off his muffin and picked up his coffee.
“You thought Hope House was the answer. Your big mission.”
No,he’d thought Tia was the answer. But he nodded. Took a sip of coffee. “Being a missionary felt so right with Juliet. It was direction and purpose and...”