Nic’s father was never a loud individual.
Considering the chaos of their family, that was saying a lot. He had a mother like a summer storm and a sister like a hurricane, but his father was the calm that kept them all together. Collected, always knowing what to do and right when to do it. It hadn’t mattered if it was a scraped knee or scraped pride, he was the rock that they all needed.
Nic had grown up beneath his mother’s wings, but it was his Alan’s steadfastness that had kept them all afloat.
Was that what made him so nervous? He had a feeling it was more than that. It had to be more, to have his chest so tight and palms so shaky. He knew he could do this job, yeah. That wasn’t the question that had been bothering him so badly for days on end. The question was, could he do it anywhere close to as well as his father did? A position like this wasn’t just filled with an application - it was passed down like a torch, as easy to drop as it was to receive.