Many of the oldest buildings in the small town where I grew up were known by their original purpose, or at least what they housed for a long time. There was the old bakery, the old armory, the old apothecary and so on. In this very brief section from Chapter 3 of Into the Fire, Joseph’s family refers to a building downtown as the old apothecary, which I know is a really old word. It was an old word even when I was a kid. But I couldn’t resist slipping in this little nod to small town history.
From the book:
He never got to say the words that he’d rehearsed though. He was about to find out that he’d waited just a little too long to share the news.
His mother began the conversation almost in the same breath as her amen. “Joseph,” she said sternly, “we need to talk.”
It sounded as though she was about to yell at him for not cleaning his room. He instinctively tried to look innocent.
“I had a rather disturbing chat with Travis Shannon yesterday,” she said.
Mr. Shannon was a former neighbor and the real estate agent who’d sold Joseph his building. What were the odds this disturbing news had nothing to do with the man’s job? Joseph figured they were not good. He braced himself.
“I bumped into him at Seymour’s,” his mom explained. “He asked me when you planned to open. I said, ‘Open what?’ and he said, ‘It’s been almost a year since he bought the old apothecary. I guessed he’d be getting close to opening by now.’” She raised her eyebrows deliberately to indicate her shock.
“What?” Ruth said.
“You bought the old apothecary?” Isaac asked.
There was plenty of surprise to go around. Joseph’s dad was the only one who didn’t look shocked. He’d likely already heard about it when his parents hashed out exactly how to grill him about it.
“Yes,” was all Joseph said because his mom was very upset. It didn’t feel like the right moment to get her excited about his plans.
“When?” she asked. “Has it really been almost a year?”
“I closed in January.”
“January? And when were you going to tell us about this?”
He sighed. She wasn’t going to believe him, but he admitted he’d been about to bring it up.
“That’s convenient,” she said.
“Wait.” Isaac put down his slice of pizza as a thought occurred to him. “That old building has an apartment upstairs. Are you living there?”
Joseph winced as he nodded. This was not at all how he imagined the lunch.
His mom’s eyes got bigger than the pizza as everyone else joined in his wince.
“Joseph,” she said. She wasn’t shouting. Her voice was eerily calm and quiet. “Am I hearing correctly? Did you move and not tell anyone?”
“I, uh… did.”
“Have you been living there since January?” Ruth asked.
He shook his head. “It took a while to get ready since I did a lot of the work myself. I moved in April.”
“April?” His mom’s eyes were still bugging out. “For more than six months I haven’t known where my own child lives?”
“Well, I always come here,” Joseph said, “so it hasn’t really come up.”
“What if there was some kind of emergency, and I needed to get in touch with you?”
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and waved it at her. “You haven’t had any trouble getting in touch with me.”
“I don’t know,” Ruth said. “You haven’t replied to the text I sent you a half hour ago.”
Before he put the phone away, Joseph typed out: I’ll be there twenty minutes ago.
Ruth laughed when she saw it and held it across the table for Gabriel to read.
Their dad cleared his throat then, and she quickly put the phone away. They weren’t supposed to have them in sight during meals and there were already enough strained nerves.
“I believe we’ve given Joseph enough of a hard time about what he hasn’t told us,” their dad said. He had red hair like Isaac and Adam and Ruth and his wife.
Joseph rarely felt like an oddball for being the only dark-haired family member. But in that moment, he felt like an outsider for entirely different reasons. “What are your plans? I’ve seen the paper on the windows for a long time so I’ve known someone had plans for the building. I’ll be glad to hear them.”
Joseph nodded. He turned to the other end of the table to look at his mom.
She gave him one last stern look followed by a slow blink. Then just like that she looked ready to listen and hear him out.
His mother began the conversation almost in the same breath as her amen. “Joseph,” she said sternly, “we need to talk.”
It sounded as though she was about to yell at him for not cleaning his room. He instinctively tried to look innocent.
“I had a rather disturbing chat with Travis Shannon yesterday,” she said.
Mr. Shannon was a former neighbor and the real estate agent who’d sold Joseph his building. What were the odds this disturbing news had nothing to do with the man’s job? Joseph figured they were not good. He braced himself.
“I bumped into him at Seymour’s,” his mom explained. “He asked me when you planned to open. I said, ‘Open what?’ and he said, ‘It’s been almost a year since he bought the old apothecary. I guessed he’d be getting close to opening by now.’” She raised her eyebrows deliberately to indicate her shock.
“What?” Ruth said.
“You bought the old apothecary?” Isaac asked.
There was plenty of surprise to go around. Joseph’s dad was the only one who didn’t look shocked. He’d likely already heard about it when his parents hashed out exactly how to grill him about it.
“Yes,” was all Joseph said because his mom was very upset. It didn’t feel like the right moment to get her excited about his plans.
“When?” she asked. “Has it really been almost a year?”
“I closed in January.”
“January? And when were you going to tell us about this?”
He sighed. She wasn’t going to believe him, but he admitted he’d been about to bring it up.
“That’s convenient,” she said.
“Wait.” Isaac put down his slice of pizza as a thought occurred to him. “That old building has an apartment upstairs. Are you living there?”
Joseph winced as he nodded. This was not at all how he imagined the lunch.
His mom’s eyes got bigger than the pizza as everyone else joined in his wince.
“Joseph,” she said. She wasn’t shouting. Her voice was eerily calm and quiet. “Am I hearing correctly? Did you move and not tell anyone?”
“I, uh… did.”
“Have you been living there since January?” Ruth asked.
He shook his head. “It took a while to get ready since I did a lot of the work myself. I moved in April.”
“April?” His mom’s eyes were still bugging out. “For more than six months I haven’t known where my own child lives?”
“Well, I always come here,” Joseph said, “so it hasn’t really come up.”
“What if there was some kind of emergency, and I needed to get in touch with you?”
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and waved it at her. “You haven’t had any trouble getting in touch with me.”
“I don’t know,” Ruth said. “You haven’t replied to the text I sent you a half hour ago.”
Before he put the phone away, Joseph typed out: I’ll be there twenty minutes ago.
Ruth laughed when she saw it and held it across the table for Gabriel to read.
Their dad cleared his throat then, and she quickly put the phone away. They weren’t supposed to have them in sight during meals and there were already enough strained nerves.
“I believe we’ve given Joseph enough of a hard time about what he hasn’t told us,” their dad said. He had red hair like Isaac and Adam and Ruth and his wife.
Joseph rarely felt like an oddball for being the only dark-haired family member. But in that moment, he felt like an outsider for entirely different reasons. “What are your plans? I’ve seen the paper on the windows for a long time so I’ve known someone had plans for the building. I’ll be glad to hear them.”
Joseph nodded. He turned to the other end of the table to look at his mom.
She gave him one last stern look followed by a slow blink. Then just like that she looked ready to listen and hear him out.
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