Husband Under Construction

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“Glad to hear it,” Noah said, leaning forward to push himself off the sofa. But his father’s hand shot out.

“Hang on a minute, I want to talk to you.” Grunting, he curled over the arm of the chair to dig the remote out of the pocket. The clicker found, he aimed it at the flat-screen TV, talking to the screen instead of Noah. “Why’d you jack up the figures for Charley’s job?”

Sneaking a glance at his watch—it was too late to cancel now without looking like a sleazeball—Noah lowered himself again to the edge of the sofa, his hands linked between his knees. “Because you’d cut them too close,” he said over some crime show he never watched. “If any of our supply prices had gone up, you’d've been screwed. And Silas agreed with me,” he added before his father could protest.

“Damn repeats,” his father muttered, clicking the TV off again before meeting Noah’s gaze. “Except Charley doesn’t have that kind of money.”

“I understand that. Since I was the one who discussed the budget with him. So we all came up with a solution.”

“We all?”

“Silas and me, mostly. But Roxie, too. That if a lot of the demo work got done for free, Charley’s contribution would still cover materials and the crew’s wages. There’s like zip profit margin, but it won’t take you under, either.”

His father looked at him steadily for several seconds. “What about your salary?”

“I’m good for a couple of weeks. Shouldn’t take any longer than that.”

More staring. “Why?”

Noah knew what he was asking. “Because I know how much Charley means to you.”

His father broke the connection first, shifting in his chair and turning the TV back on. “Roxie know you’re doing the project gratis?”

“No. Why should she?”

The uncomfortable silence that followed was broken by Donna Garrett’s hearty laugh from the dining room, where she was supervising dessert for a batch of grandchildren. “Guess that could work.”

Noah knew the grudging acknowledgement was as close to a thumbs-up as Gene was going to give under the circumstances. Before he could reply, however, his father said, “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About how I should spend some time with your mother.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Get away.”

“Oh?”

“Except…what if I did want to go traipsing around Europe or take your mother on a cruise or something? Who’d handle things while I was gone?”

And here we go again. “Actually…probably the same people who handle things now.” When his father frowned at him, Noah said, “Dad. Everybody knows you worked your butt off all those years when we were little. And that the business wouldn’t be what it is today if you hadn’t. But it also wouldn’t be what it is if it wasn’t for all of us. You gotta admit, you haven’t run it on your own for some time.” And it occurred to Noah that he wasn’t asking for a go-ahead to take on more responsibility as much as an acknowledgement that he, and his brothers, already had.

Gene met his gaze dead on. “You telling me I’m no longer necessary?”

“Didn’t say that. But it’s been a long time since you were the sole decision maker—”

“Maybe so. But you all, you’re…” His father made a circle with one hand, like he was searching for the right word. “Spokes of the same wheel. And a wheel’s nothing without an axle.”

Smiling slightly, Noah got to his feet, checking to be sure his phone was in his jeans pocket before grabbing his jacket off the seat beside him. “Axle’s kind of pointless without the wheel, too, you know. This family, it’s a team. We got the whole working-together-for-the-common-good thing down. Nobody’s trying to put you out to pasture, okay? But I think, between us, we can keep things going for a couple of weeks while you take Mom on a second honeymoon.”

“The cabinetry, though—that’s still the core of the business. The biggest moneymaker. Who’s gonna oversee that?”