Chapter 1 #2
Trask sighed. It was time for some honesty.
Not complete disclosure, but at least some.
“I’ve been asking myself the same question,” he admitted.
“I was…unhappy with something that had been going on at my headquarters. Also, I was displeased over being a desk-jockey these last few years. So with the way Spence talked up his new business, I thought there’d be an immediate place for me to fit in at Diver Downeast. Which doesn’t seem to be the case,” he added dejectedly.
“Despite all the contracts that are coming in from various companies, there’s still very little to do until Spence and Buck’s training is complete, agreements with potential clients are signed, and jobs defined.
“But even then…” He trailed off, a nerve ticking in his eye. “Am I going to be much help, not having been diving more than a dozen times in as many years? I don’t bring nearly the chops that Spence and Buck do, and I certainly can’t operate a sub like Tabitha.”
His father scooped up a huge spoonful of cereal and chewed reflexively before swallowing, then used the business end of his utensil to point at Trask.
“Well, it seems to me you can either continue to whine about it, or you can shut down your pity-party and start doing something proactive.”
“My pity…?” Trask coughed at the terminology his father tossed at him, eventually managing to clear his throat as he swallowed with difficulty.
Had he been holding a pity-party? Damn.
His father might have a point.
Trask realized he’d been blaming his brothers for his inactivity with their as yet to be up-and-running business. And he’d been internally bitching about his living quarters, but he’d done nothing about it. In reality, had he been dragging his feet feeling sorry for himself?
He posed the question to his father. “You think I’ve been sabotaging myself? That I’m…somehow punishing myself for having left the military?”
His father simply shrugged and threw the possibility back at him. “Have you accomplished anything concrete since you’ve been here? Have you even tried to define what your new role here or at Diver Downeast will be?”
When Trask would have answered, Guy held up a hand.
“Listen. I’m not saying you don’t deserve some down time, son.
After being at the government’s beck and call for thirty years, no one begrudges you that.
But you can either relax and enjoy some well-deserved leisure without looking so pained all the time, or you can get off your ass and start working toward making this next chapter of your life what you want it to be. ”
And there it was in a nutshell.
Trask didn’t know what he wanted for himself moving forward. Did his control-freak, workaholic-ass require a steady, full-time job? Did he want adventures? Was he here, simply looking for a way to reconnect with his family after being on his own for so long?
He didn’t have a clue, but his dissatisfaction certainly ran deeply.
If he were to admit it, he was…lonely.,
Having been witness for years to what a great partnership his parents had, and to see four of brothers finding happiness with really wonderful women, Trask couldn’t help but ponder if there wasn’t someone out there for him?
Someone who could put up with his cranky, set-in-his-ways personality.
Someone who wouldn’t run away the first time Trask inadvertently barked an order, rather than asking something politely.
Trask knew his weaknesses; knew how little his military training had prepared him for life on the outside. Was there any civilian woman who wouldn’t balk at him needing strict order and guidelines to survive?
Dammit, he was even slightly jealous of all the dogs that had become part of the family. Buck and Bobbie had Cooper and Reyghan, Spence and Tabitha had Duck, and even Mason—along with his wife, Everlee—had Izzy.
Maybe he could find a dog…
But that situation, as intriguing as it was, wasn’t what needed immediate attention. He couldn’t use the thought of a pooch to whisk job and housing logistics to the back burner.
Trask regarded his father. “So, you think I’m sabotaging things on purpose so I can blame my lack of satisfaction on opportunities I’m not actually pursuing? So that I can…what? Run away when things don’t line up the way I want them to?” he pondered, immediately seeing the truth in that.
“I’m not saying it, but you just did,” his father returned mildly, then arched a brow. “For example, what’s on your docket for today?”
Trask, of course, had already made up his mind to that. He’d spent too much time over the past couple weeks just driving around aimlessly, trying and not succeeding to reconnect emotionally to “home”.
“I already kicked myself in the ass this morning and asked that very same question,” he revealed. “I’m going to sit down with Spence, Buck, and Tabitha, and have them define my roll in their company. After that, if it’s a satisfactory meeting, I’m going to look for a place to live.”
God knows, he had plenty of money. He’d been frugal for his entire enlistment, and had made good investments. He could afford to buy a couple of houses, outright, and not even blink.
His father gave a little smile. “That’s a good start.
But you know, if you don’t end up finding what you want with Diver Downeast, I can always use another hand here at the mill.
Not as a worker-bee,” he clarified quickly.
“I actually need someone I can trust to be in charge. I’ve been contemplating working shorter weeks, and even taking some real time off here and there.
Your mother and I have been discussing the possibility of a little travel. ”
Wow. This is the first time Trask had heard anything like that from his parents, and if anyone deserved some relaxation time, it was them. Could he help them out? Even though he hadn’t worked at the mill since he was a kid, he had a feeling he’d drop right back into it pretty easily.
Trask nodded, and took a bite of his cereal, chewing slowly. Still, he didn’t want to get his dad’s hopes up. “That might work for me,” he contemplated. “Maybe part time at Diver Downeast, part time here, filling in for you… It doesn’t sound bad.”
Surprisingly, it didn’t. Trask had always loved the big barns out back, sawdust in the air, and the smell of fresh cut lumber.
“But if it doesn’t fit with my schedule,” Trask continued, “I want you to promise me you’ll try hiring someone to help take over. You and Mom need to start having some fun beyond your own front door.”
“I’ll take that into consideration,” his father agreed.
“But back to you. If you don’t want to work at the mill but you’re looking to diversify, which might be the best bet for you right now, you might want to talk to Mason,” his father suggested.
“He’s been straight out for months what with his OPD job and SWAT.
He’d been complaining like hell that he has to hold training sessions for his SWAT team on weekends when all he wants to do is be with his wife and little Reilly. ”
Trask brightened. Yeah. Mason had been bitching about not being able to spend time with his family.
If Mase agreed, martial arts training was something Trask could easily take over for his brother.
He’d spent years putting Marines through their paces, and understood the need for good skills and combat habits.
Trask dried his mouth on a napkin, then stood, coming around the long table to pause next to his father’s chair.
“You’ve given me a lot to think about,” Trask told him, semi-choked up, and uncharacteristically, he bent down and gave Guy a hug.
“And you’ve pointed me in several, good directions.
” He stood straight, ignoring the moisture that may or may not have infiltrated his eyes.
“I’m going to have that chat with Spence and company today, then if things sound good, I’ll start house hunting.
Eventually I’ll search out Mason and see if he’d like me to take on that training program.
I’ll let you know how it all goes, then we can discuss what you might need here, and how we can make that happen. ”
It was a lot to contemplate, but Trask felt like maybe, just maybe, things were moving in the right direction.