Chapter Twenty-Five

15 2 13
                                    

"Would anyone like to pray over the meal today?" Reverend Merrick's voice filled the room.

Isaiah gaze centered on his Father. He smiled, just enough to be polite.

"I can, Father," Isaiah offered, not letting another second of silence will the space.

"Thank you, Isaiah, whenever you're ready," His Father said, as the family guided their hands together. Isaiah's mind momentarily strayed to his current dilemma regarding the billard's night. He'd have to ask, he'd just have to.

"Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for the food before us, for the hands that prepared it, and grew the ingredients. Thank you for your abundant provision," Isaiah clumsily traversed the blessing, "Bless this meal, may it nourish our bodies and strengthen our spirits. In Jesus' name, we pray. Amen."

The family untangled their hands and picked up their utensils.

"How was your day, Anna?" Isaiah's Father spoke to fill the silence. Isaiah blocked out the conversation as he usually did. Plans didn't often change around the household. The meal that night: Roasted chicken, beans, and cornbread served with preserves. There was an apple pie sitting away in the corner, taunting him with its sweet smell. As Isaiah shoveled the meal into his mouth, he thought of what to do.

There was a seductive thought floating around his mind. Which was to not say anything at all. He wanted to go, and he was sure it wasn't outside influence, it was his own wants. He rarely wanted anything at all. His Father would be against it. There were several reasons. He didn't like Sydney, as much was clear as an early morning sky. His Father would most likely disapprove of the activities, and David's wedding was tomorrow. Isaiah chewed on a particular tough piece of chicken, as he lamented. He felt like Job, tested by every side.

His thought process with interrupted as a shoe smashed down on his own. Isaiah jolted upwards and faced the people of the table. David wasn't looked at him as he continued to eat, but his Father looked as if he was awaiting something.

"There you are," His Father sighed, and Isaiah chewed the inside of his cheek. Biting down on the scarred tissue.

"Apologies, Father," Isaiah replied.

"As I was asking, how was work today?" His Father asked, "Were you able to stay on task?"

"Yes, Father, work went smoothly."

"I noticed you were home on time as well, is workload lightening this week?" His Father asked, something deeper lacing his words.

"So far, but we're beginning another paper, so I'm sure it'll pick up," Isaiah replied.

"And the article?" His Father continued, his voice a bit rougher, "The new one."

"It's getting finished properly," Isaiah murmured a bit.

"Is there trouble?" David interjected a bit bluntly.

"No, David, none at all," Isaiah said to quell any issues.

"Hm," David sighed before turning to his food.

"Well, David, how are you feeling about tomorrow? Excited I hope," Their Father said.

"I can't wait to watch the ceremony," Anna-Marie lovingly commented.

"It won't be long, will it?" Their grandmother, Annabeth, sighed.

"Mother," Anna-Marie frowned.

"It's a simple traditional ceremony, it won't be long grandmother," David replied, "I am looking forward to it," His voice began to turn lighter, as his lips turned up, "It's the beginning of a new era of my life, where I can be closer to God."

Glory BeWhere stories live. Discover now