Chapter 22 #2
“I did too. My dad kept the books close to his vest, so I had no idea what I was taking on until a few days before he left. It was baptism by fire after he and your grandmother moved to Arizona. I discovered the business I’d invested my life in was on the brink of going under, along with the family legacy.
It took me years of blood, sweat, and tears—not to mention fifteen-hour days—to right the ship and get the company back on firm footing. ”
A muscle twitched beside Lucas’s eye. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
“I didn’t want you and your mother to worry about our financial straits. She didn’t grow up in the most secure environment, and children shouldn’t have to deal with uncertainty.”
“You think dealing with an absentee father and husband, who never explained why he was choosing the mill over us, was less painful?”
Martin winced. Yet Lucas was spot-on. “That was a mistake.”
“Yeah. It was.” His throat worked, and he dipped his chin. Picked up a napkin and scrubbed at a few drops of coffee that had spilled on the table. “I always wondered if you stopped hanging around because you got tired of being a father. If I was too much trouble.”
“Oh, Lucas.” He closed his eyes, stomach knotting. Exhaled. “It had nothing to do with you or your mom. I just felt overwhelmed. I didn’t want the Fisher legacy to go under on my watch, nor did I have a clue what I’d do if it did. All I know is lumber.”
“So why did you build that big house, if the situation was as tough as you say?”
“I didn’t build it until I was certain the company was safe. And my ego was involved in that. The house was a concrete way for me to prove to myself and to the world that I was a success. That all the effort I’d put into turning the company around had paid off.”
“You know what? I liked our little house better. It was happier.”
Yeah, it had been.
“I agree. If I had it all to do over again, knowing what I know now, I would have come up with another plan to save the company. Like the one I’m working on now that will allow me to step back and delegate some of the management tasks so I have more time for the people I love.”
“Does Mom know about that?”
“Not yet. I want to have all my ducks in a row before I attempt to talk to her again.”
Lucas removed the lid from his coffee. Swirled the dregs of the dark liquid. “It took a lot of guts for her to walk away. It may not be easy to convince her you’re serious.”
“I know. But nothing matters more to me than reconnecting with the two of you. If I had to give up the mill tomorrow to make that happen, I’d do it in a heartbeat.” He moved his cup aside. Linked his fingers on the table. Braced. “So do you think you and I could try again?”
As he waited for his son’s response, a plate dropped somewhere in the shop, the glass shattering on the floor.
Hopefully that wasn’t an omen of how this conversation was going to end.
“I guess we can talk more—but I can’t promise anything else yet.”
That was a start, anyway.
“I’ll take it. Now if you can spare a few more minutes, I’d like to hear about your internship. It sounds like a plum opportunity.”
At first, all he could elicit were short comments. But as he continued to ask questions, Lucas began to warm up.
Forty-five minutes later, the conversation was flowing much more naturally.
But when Lucas glanced at his watch, Martin took the cue. “I’m sure you have other plans for the day. I don’t want to hold you up.”
“I do have a commitment in an hour. I’m coaching a boy’s baseball team this summer at my church. We practice on Saturdays.”
One more quality to admire in the man his son had become.
“You can’t disappoint the team.” He wadded up his napkin. Squeezed it in his fist. “I know this is a long shot on a Saturday night, but if you’re available, we could continue our conversation over dinner.”
“I don’t have a date, so yeah. I could do dinner. There’s a great barbecue place not far from here.” He named the restaurant.
“Sounds good. You want me to pick you up, or should we meet there?”
“Where are you staying?”
He gave him the name of the chain hotel he’d chosen close to the airport—a convenient location if Lucas had blown him off and he’d decided to catch an earlier flight out.
“Let’s meet at the restaurant about six.” Lucas picked up his cup, slid to the end of the bench, and stood. “I’ll see you later.”
“I’ll be there.” He stood too. Held out his hand. “Thank you for your willingness to let me have another shot at being a father.”
Lucas took it. Gave his fingers a quick squeeze. “You should thank Adam instead.”
That was unexpected.
“How so?”
“When I wrote to apologize for all the grief I caused him, he sent me a letter I still have. He said forgiveness is easier than humility, so if someone has the courage to put their pride aside, admit their mistakes, and promise to do better, it’s wrong not to accept their apology and give them the benefit of the doubt.
He also said it’s important to pay that kind of grace forward. Like I’m doing with you.”
Martin sucked in a breath.
This from a young man less than half his age but with twice his wisdom.
It was humbling.
“Thank you.” His voice scratched.
Lucas nodded. “I’ll see you for dinner.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
Martin remained by the table, watching until Lucas pushed through the door and disappeared into the oppressive heat. Then he picked up his empty cup.
Should he get a refill?
No.
He didn’t need another caffeine infusion to energize him. His meeting with his son had already done that.
And perhaps, if all went well during the remainder of his visit, the groundwork for a new and improved relationship would be firmly laid by the time he flew home to tackle the next item on his make-a-new-start list.