“Come back over here and finish making the toast,” Charlie demanded.
“What’s the point?” Nathan said sullenly.
Charlie counted to ten, then walked over to the sofa. He stooped in front of the teenager so they were face-to-face. “Look, Nathan, it’s been a long time since I was fourteen, and until I met you and your mother, I had no idea how to be a dad, either.”
Nathan didn’t meet Charlie’s gaze. He sat with his eyes downcast, arms folded across his chest, mouth tight.
“I want this six weeks to be a good time—like we used to have. You want that, too, don’t you?” Charlie pleaded.
Nathan nodded, but continued to look down.
“Great. Now, we can do one of two things. Continue on as we have been, or forget about everything that’s gone wrong this morning and start over. Clean slate. What do you say?”
He waited while Nathan contemplated his options. Charlie wondered what the big decision was, but knew better than to voice that thought. Nathan’s grandmother had warned him that trying to be a parent to a fourteen year old was tricky. He now knew what she was talking about.
When Nathan finally raised his head, his eyes didn’t meet Charlie’s, but looked beyond him to the galley. As they widened, Charlie turned around to see why.
Beth was at the stove. “Good grief, Charlie. Only you would leave eggs frying unattended. What are you trying to do? Burn up our inheritance?”
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