James’s despair lifted to heaven, even though he bade his heart to ignore God. Why, why had he gone away to become the leader of a congregation when his family needed him here? Why had he given up the town’s dream that he would be its shining star—a calling card to the world acknowledging their little spec of paradise in the universe? In the end, he’d answered God’s call without thought of the havoc it would wreak at home. His family, his town wallowing in hopelessness, their lives torn asunder by failure. He’d been led away…maybe by his own arrogance. Maybe he hadn’t been led away by God, but by his own enthusiasm to lead a flock. Was that possible? James didn’t know anymore. He’d lost his rudder, his calm in the storm, his God. His heart.

His father’s eyes remained hooded, focused on nothing as far as James could tell. Not even the home-cooked meal Mary had prepared for them all. Meat, potatoes and broccoli remained untouched, unnoticed, unappreciated. How did Mary cope with this silent censure of her efforts? From his brief conversation with her earlier, James canvassed his memories to plumb the depths of his sister’s emotions. She was putting on a brave front, trying to remain hopeful and smiling in the face of the divorce and her children’s needs. Even then, when she was at a low point, he’d not come home. The bitterness of failing his own family galled him. James shied away from his thoughts. He looked at his father again.

Cigarette smoke curled into a haze as his father took a deep drag. The glowing red cherry sparked and then faded, the wrinkles around his father’s mouth forming a well-deep sunburst. Time had not been kind to that face. Life had not been kind—to either of them.

Fleetingly, James wondered if he would look like his father in another twenty years.

There could be worse fates.

He started to speak, but his voice got lost in the scraping of chair legs across the worn linoleum floor. He clamped his lips closed as his father stubbed out the cigarette and then stood. His father’s back wasn’t any more inviting than his stony expression had been. No thank you for the meal, no acknowledgement of his family at all. It was as if they didn’t exist. A deep anger settled in James’s gut. His father was so self-absorbed he couldn’t even give Mary a kind word for her efforts? And none of the others said a word. What had his family become? On previous visits, James hadn’t sensed this withdrawal, this folding in of each one of them. What had changed? His mind tossed out various ideas before clarity reared its head…all those other times he’d visited. This time, he was staying.

James watched the man walk out the front door; then he glanced at his niece and nephew. They both seemed oblivious to their grandfather’s brooding. A blessing, he supposed.

The tension in the room must have emanated only between James and his father. James willed his body to relax, dropping his shoulders, subtly stretching his legs under the table. He didn’t want to think about why his staying would result in the silent treatment from his father. Turning his head, he rested his gaze on Mary, asked the silent question.