At Last (The Idle Point, Maine Stories)(22)

"Gramma!"

"Listen to me!" Gramma Del's hands trembled as they held her face captive between them. "You can be anything you want to be if you hold tight to your dreams."

"Gramma, I haven't had a date in months. I'm working around the clock with Doctor Jim. I get up, go to work, come home again, all because I'm focused on a dream. If you think I'm going to let anything come between me and my future, then you don't know your granddaughter."

It was the first time Gracie ever lied to her grandmother, but it wouldn't be the last.





Chapter Five





He's an old man, Noah realized as his father paced the book-lined study the next morning. When he'd gone off to school in September, his father had been tall and strong, a man in the latter years of his prime. Now, nine months and two heart attacks later, everything had changed. Simon looked as grey and weathered as the town. He walked as if each step required major effort. Only his voice, that deep rich baritone, retained the power Noah remembered.

"... a disappointment," his father was saying. "Your mother and I expect more from you than this juvenile act of rebellion..."

Noah tuned out. He knew the drill. He' d heard it a million times before. It didn't change anything. It didn't mean his father wanted to know one damn thing about his life.

"There are responsibilities that come with being a Chase... we expect excellence... you're very luck to be part... how do we explain... you've disappointed me, Noah... hurt your mother... think about the future..."

When Noah was a little boy, he would have given his pitching arm to be the focus of his old man's undivided attention. His father was a busy man, pillar of the community, owner and editor of the best newspaper in all of New England. He had responsibilities that went far beyond what happened at home. He didn't have time to spend listening to the problems of his small son.

Still Simon Chase had been Noah's idol, more than Superman or Batman or even Carleton Fisk. He didn't want to be a ballplayer or action hero. He wanted to be a newspaperman just like his father. He wanted to stand up for what he believed in and, with his words, make others stand up for it too.

His father had that power. With just black type on white paper, Simon Chase moved mountains. His influence in Idle Point was legendary and, thanks to a Pulitzer Prize in 1979, that influence had been felt around the world, if only briefly.

The staff at the Gazette loved Simon. Noah's chest used to burst with pride each time he saw the way the editors and reporters gathered around his father when he spoke. They hung on his every word. They jumped when he barked out an order. They loved him and they respected him. "He's a great man, your father," Wendell Banning had told Noah after the heart attack at Christmastime when they all thought they were going to lose Simon. "If you turn out to be half the man your father is, you'll be better than most."

Noah didn't deny that when it came to the Gazette his father was a great man but the wide-eyed hero worship of his childhood had given way to bitter acceptance of the fact that he and Simon would never be close. Not in the way he had dreamed about as a little boy.

Simon stopped pacing in front of Noah and looked down at him. "And what do you have to say for yourself?"

Noah shrugged. "Not much." Even less than his father would be willing to hear.

"What are your plans for the summer?"

Okay. Now's your chance. Take a deep breath and go for it. "I'm supposed to start work in Colorado the end of next week."

"Those were your plans before you were expelled from St. Luke's. What are your new plans?"

"I don't have any new plans."

"Then I recommend you come up with some by this time tomorrow."

"What wrong with Colorado?" He knew he was pushing it but he didn't care. It wasn't like Simon had any idea what was going on in his life.

"Out of the question."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"Great reason," Noah muttered, slouching lower in his chair.

"I'll thank you to watch yourself, son. As long as you live under my roof, you'll do as I tell you."

Noah couldn't help it. He laughed in his father's face. "I haven't lived under your roof since I was six years old."

Simon looked stricken. "You're my son. This is your home."