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intheheartTitle: Decisions
Rating: PG.
Summary: Nathan evaluates.
Date: June 1985
Notes: none.
On the first anniversary of his seperation, Nathan left Aaron with his grandmother and went down to the boatyard.
He'd kept his boat here, in better times, before his mother had died and he'd had to sell it to get to college. He'd worked here in the summers until he went into the Navy. And now...
And now he'd probably never see it again.
He didn't want to leave. Oh, it wasn't as if he'd be leaving the sea-- that was everywhere, timeless and eternal. Hell, if he found the right apartment, he'd be able to see it from his living room window, which was better than what he had right now. But he had to move. He had to leave Connecticut.
He was really going to miss this place. He stared over the water, over the white-painted boats rocking softly on the swells and the birds that rode the ocean between them. In the distance, the grey sea blended into the blue sky in a misty white blur. The cries of seagulls echoed off the boats, water slapping hollowly against the hulls of the boats. He closed his eyes, tasted the salt at the back of his throat.
The job offer was a good one. He could be an architect, build public buildings, support himself and Aaron fairly easily. A naval salary did not add up to much. He'd nearly run out of his savings.
A year. A whole year since Melanie had looked him in the eyes and said, with no emotion, that she wanted a divorce. A year since he'd agreed, since Melanie had given him full custody of their two-year-old son and vanished on the horizon, since he'd left the Navy for Aaron's sake. A year of struggles and challenges and pain, and wondering every night why she'd left him, why she'd found it so easy to just stop loving him.
Nathan opened his eyes again and looked out over the ocean. Aaron would do better in New York City. It wasn't that Connecticut wasn't a wonderful place to grow up, but he simply had no money, no job, no prospects. He could work at the boatyard again, but they couldn't keep the house if he did that. If they were going to move anyway, he'd rather it was to somewhere he could actually support his child.
Aaron looked at him with such adoration in his eyes, such utter and absolute trust. It frightened him, that trust. He wasn't sure if he was worthy of it.
New York City. He'd only been there once, long ago; he remembered it as a dangerous city, dank and dirty, but also a beautiful city, full of parks and museums. There were even a few boatyards down there-- not this boatyard, but boatyards still. His son could have a good life there.
He'd already made his decision. He'd miss this place, but Aaron deserved better.
With a sigh, Nathan got up and dusted off his pants.
New York City.
He wondered what it would be like.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Nathan evaluates.
Date: June 1985
Notes: none.
On the first anniversary of his seperation, Nathan left Aaron with his grandmother and went down to the boatyard.
He'd kept his boat here, in better times, before his mother had died and he'd had to sell it to get to college. He'd worked here in the summers until he went into the Navy. And now...
And now he'd probably never see it again.
He didn't want to leave. Oh, it wasn't as if he'd be leaving the sea-- that was everywhere, timeless and eternal. Hell, if he found the right apartment, he'd be able to see it from his living room window, which was better than what he had right now. But he had to move. He had to leave Connecticut.
He was really going to miss this place. He stared over the water, over the white-painted boats rocking softly on the swells and the birds that rode the ocean between them. In the distance, the grey sea blended into the blue sky in a misty white blur. The cries of seagulls echoed off the boats, water slapping hollowly against the hulls of the boats. He closed his eyes, tasted the salt at the back of his throat.
The job offer was a good one. He could be an architect, build public buildings, support himself and Aaron fairly easily. A naval salary did not add up to much. He'd nearly run out of his savings.
A year. A whole year since Melanie had looked him in the eyes and said, with no emotion, that she wanted a divorce. A year since he'd agreed, since Melanie had given him full custody of their two-year-old son and vanished on the horizon, since he'd left the Navy for Aaron's sake. A year of struggles and challenges and pain, and wondering every night why she'd left him, why she'd found it so easy to just stop loving him.
Nathan opened his eyes again and looked out over the ocean. Aaron would do better in New York City. It wasn't that Connecticut wasn't a wonderful place to grow up, but he simply had no money, no job, no prospects. He could work at the boatyard again, but they couldn't keep the house if he did that. If they were going to move anyway, he'd rather it was to somewhere he could actually support his child.
Aaron looked at him with such adoration in his eyes, such utter and absolute trust. It frightened him, that trust. He wasn't sure if he was worthy of it.
New York City. He'd only been there once, long ago; he remembered it as a dangerous city, dank and dirty, but also a beautiful city, full of parks and museums. There were even a few boatyards down there-- not this boatyard, but boatyards still. His son could have a good life there.
He'd already made his decision. He'd miss this place, but Aaron deserved better.
With a sigh, Nathan got up and dusted off his pants.
New York City.
He wondered what it would be like.
