Read Online The Journey Collection by Lisa Bilbrey - Free Book Online Page B

“Wash up, boys; dinner should be ready.”
    “Yes, Ma’am.” Max saluted her, before motioning for Travis to follow him to the bathroom.
    Once they’d thoroughly washed their hands, they headed into the dining room. Penelope already had the table set. In the middle were scalloped potatoes, a basket of rolls, and chicken casserole. Max cheered and slid into one of the chairs, leaving Travis to sit across from him. Penelope came in a moment later with two glasses of iced tea and one of milk.
    “I hope you’re hungry,” she said, taking the seat between the two of them.
    “Starving,” Travis replied. “It smells delicious.”
    Penelope’s cheeks warmed.
    “Mom makes the best chicken casserole,” Max declared, handing her his plate.
    “I bet she does.” Travis smiled.
    For a few minutes, they ate in silence, just enjoying the food. Max cleared his plate and asked for seconds. Penelope laughed and scooped another helping out for him.
    “So, Travis,” Max said, ending the silence around them, “when were you going to tell me that you’re my dad?”
    Travis, who’d just taken a drink of his tea, started choking.
    “Max!” Penelope yelled, slapping Travis on the back.
    “What?” Max exclaimed, shrugging his shoulders. “It was a simple question.”
    “No, it wasn’t,” she snarled. Penelope turned to Travis. “Are you okay?”
    “Yep, just wasn’t expecting it to be blurted out like that.” Dragging his napkin over his mouth, Travis looked over at Max. “I swear I didn’t know.”
    “Oh, I know,” Max told him, acting like everything hadn’t just come to a standstill.
    “How’d you know?” Penelope asked.
    Max laughed and stood up. Picking up his plate, he smirked. “It was pretty obvious, Mom. I mean, every time the Sharks played, you’d get real mushy and start crying. Plus, I saw the pictures of you two in the box you keep under your bed. The math wasn’t hard to figure out, either. I mean, I am ten already.”
    “Max, I . . .”
    “Don’t worry about it, Mom,” Max chirped, interrupting her. “I’m not mad or anything. Besides, he’s here now, right? We can be a real family.”
    “Max . . .”
    “You bet we can, little man,” Travis said, cutting Penelope off in mid-sentence. She glared at him, but he ignored her. “You have my word.”
    “Good, but hurt my mom, Travis, and you’ll have to deal with me.” There wasn’t a hint of humor in his voice. “She cries enough as it is.”
    Without another word, Max carried his plate into the kitchen, leaving them sitting there with his warning hanging in the air between them. Somehow, Travis knew that he should heed Max’s little message.
    ***

Chapter Eight
    Inspiration
    “Hurry, boy! We’re gonna be late!” Russ yelled from downstairs.
    “I’m coming,” Travis hollered in return. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror, trying in vain to tame the curls on the top of his head. It wasn’t working; they were still crinkling in every direction. Frustrated, he tossed the comb on the counter and headed downstairs. Russ sat at the kitchen table, his legs stretched out in front of him, and a smirk spread over his lips.
    “Are you ready?”
    “Just waiting on you.” Russ groaned when he stood up.
    “You okay, old man?” Travis asked.
    “Yeah, just tired bones,” he grumbled. “I’m not that young anymore, boy.”
    Russ grabbed his black, felt cowboy hat and followed Travis out of the house. Begrudgingly, Travis climbed into the passenger seat of Russ’ Chevy, knowing he’d lose the argument if he pressed his father to take his car into town. They’d made progress on rebuilding their relationship, and the last thing Travis wanted was to ruin it by starting a petty disagreement.
    With one arm draped along the back of the seats and the other resting against the window, Travis thought about the last few days. He’d spent every moment he could with Max, trying to get to know his son and prove that he wasn’t a