Chapter 12
The words "For My Children", carved on an oaken wood table, described Jacob Morningside perfectly. The widower, who had spent his adult life putting his boys first, became bewildered at finding himself discarded by them. At the age of 74, Jacob became frightened at being alone for the first time in his life.
“Dad, we’re only thinking of what’s best for you.” This patronizing statement came with a quick pat on the back from his youngest, Steven. Jacob looked at him, unsure of what was happening.
Albert, his middle son, the successful doctor in the family, backed up his brother. "Right, you don't need this big house after Steven’s wedding next week. He’ll be moving out, and you’ll be alone.” Steven nodded his head, agreeing.
Finally, his eldest, Joseph, ended the conversation abruptly, brooking no further discussion. "I have your belongings packed and will store your furniture and other stuff at U-Store half a block from your new place. I'll send you the key to the storage unit after I'm all done."
Later in the day, Jacob found himself moved from his home of almost 60 years. Looking around his small room at the Sunnyside Convalescent Home, he tried to figure out what had happened earlier in the day. He was in excellent health and in complete control of his faculties. Yet, here he was under the care of doctors and nurses as if he was at death's door. He even needed permission to go for a walk outside, which deeply upset this independent man.
When the key arrived, Jacob walked to the U-Store complex where he found his belongings carelessly tossed in. Ignoring the broken items, he walked to the one piece of furniture that was priceless to him. It brought back so many good memories.
“Sweetheart, it's a beautiful table," said Nancy, his adored wife and mother of his strong sons. "You’re so smart to build it, but what's this you've carved on the top?” She leaned forward to read it while her husband glowed with pride at her compliments. "For My Children! What a lovely sentiment, Jacob.”
Standing there years later looking at the old table, he slowly ran his hand over the inscription he had placed there so lovingly. He thought back to the many noisy meals eaten at the table. He also remembered those sad ones for weeks after his beloved Nancy had died, when his children were still in their teens.
Eventually, the noise returned around the table, but it was different somehow. The boys were moving on with their own lives. They shared secrets their "old man" would not understand about girls, and sex, and cars. One by one, they left for college, but came back to the old homestead when finished. It was cheaper to live there when first starting out on their career paths.
Joseph was the first to leave permanently. When his accounting firm became a success, it allowed him to marry. Soon, the table again had children dropping food on it and kicking its carved legs. Jacob rarely saw his grandchildren now and knew why. One day he had overheard his 3-year-old granddaughter say loudly to her mother, "Granddad smells funny. He smells old.” Her mother had laughed, trying to explain it was Ben-Gay for his sore legs. Sadly, Joseph's two children refused to come near their grandfather after that.
Following years of study, while living frugally at home, Albert finally passed his boards. He started his practice as a proctologist in a nearby town. His older brother once joked, “It’s the perfect specialty for you. You are one and can always examine yourself when business is slow.” Their father did not understand what he meant by this, but Albert did and would not speak to Joseph for weeks. Albert’s practice grew so much it made sense to buy a home closer to it, leaving only Steven living at home.
Jacob pulled up one of the unit’s packing boxes to the table and sat down, noticing for the first time how old and shabby it looked. The inscription was hardly legible after years of scrubbing it clean. The wood was in desperate need of varnishing again. Eventually, he left the table with all its memories and returned to his lonely room, finally resigned to his life there. Like the table, I'm old and no longer needed, he sadly thought.
One of Walker's recruiters, receiving a letter from Jacob's doctor, arrived to take the old man to where he would feel wanted once again. Immediately, his sons started proceedings to get Power of Attorney for his investments. These greedy men were not willing to wait until his death for their small inheritance.
Walker smiled, without it reaching his eyes, when Jacob came to him later, wanting his advice about this. All of his adversaries had seen that smile before and would have recognized it. Walker was ready to do battle and did not like to lose.
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READERS' COMMENTS
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You've got me hooked; J'adore sa maison du renard rouge. Well done!
I think that you are onto a great saga with your story. Good job!
J.A., I'm getting to know these characters almost as well as I know my friends and family.
This is a beautiful story; you really do need to write the second book.
I am enjoying this more and more as I read on. It just keeps on getting better and better.
You did an awesome job with this story. I'm sad that it's over.
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