Chapter 30
He was already here.
Pulse picking up, Diane paused inside the door of the French bistro and homed in on Martin, who was seated at a table for two in a secluded corner, his attention focused on the menu in his hand.
All at once he raised his head, looked her direction, and slowly stood. As if he was afraid any abrupt move might frighten her off.
But she wasn’t backing out of this Friday lunch date, even if she’d been tempted to do so a dozen times in the eleven days since he’d invited her to meet him.
Forcing air into her lungs, she crossed the restaurant, weaving between tables.
As she approached, he pulled out a chair for her. “Thank you for coming.”
“I said I would, and I always keep my promises.”
“I know. Better than I have.” He held her gaze for a moment, then motioned to the chair. “Have a seat.”
She did as he asked—but shored up her defenses. His strategy to begin with an admission of fault was smart, but she wasn’t going to be swayed by any attempts to soften her up.
Keeping her tone businesslike, she smoothed a wrinkle out of the pristine cloth on the table. “I only get an hour for lunch, and it took ten minutes to get here. I have to leave by twelve fifty.”
“Understood.” He motioned to the menu in her place. “Why don’t we order before we talk so they can get our food going?”
She picked up the menu, gave it a fast skim, and set it down. “I read it online earlier in the week. I just needed to confirm that nothing had changed.”
“Actually, quite a bit has. But not on the menu.” He looked at her for a moment, then signaled to the server, who headed their direction.
“What can I get for you folks today?” The young man gave them a cheery smile.
“I’ll have the quiche.” She handed him her menu.
“Make that two.” Martin passed his menu over as well.
Once the server departed, Martin put his napkin on his lap. Straightened his knife. Pocketed the cell phone resting on the table beside him.
Interesting.
Nothing usually flustered her husband, but he seemed to be almost as nervous as she was.
Several beats ticked by, but she remained silent. If he was hoping for encouragement, her presence alone would have to suffice.
He swallowed. Cleared his throat. “I’d like to hear about your job and the show, but I have a few things to say first.”
Keeping her expression as impassive as possible, she draped her napkin across her lap. Waited.
Instead of launching into whatever speech he’d prepared, however, he picked up his water and took a sip.
She frowned as the ice rattled.
That was strange. Why would it—
Wait.
She zeroed in on the glass, and a jolt ricocheted through her.
His hands were shaking.
Mercy.
He was seriously stressed.
“Sorry.” His lips rose a hair, but that minuscule lift seemed to require a huge effort. “I’m a little nervous.”
She tried to mask her shock as the significance of that revelation registered.
This was not a man who ever revealed the slightest weakness to anyone. Martin Fisher had been well-trained by his father to always keep up a strong front.
“So am I.” There was no reason to pretend otherwise.
He acknowledged her admission with a dip of his chin.
Linked his fingers on the table. “Let me start off by saying I don’t blame you for walking out.
You were right about all the issues you raised through the years, and I was 100 percent in the wrong.
I made a lot of bad decisions on the home front. ”
“Yes, you did.” No way was she going to cut him any slack, even if his willingness to admit culpability was admirable.
“If I could go back and change what happened, I would. But at this point, all I can do is apologize.” He took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry I shut you out when I inherited a mess at the mill.
I’m sorry for my impatience and testiness and all the hurtful, unkind, demeaning things I’ve said.
I’m ashamed of them, and I regret every single one.
I’m sorry I put the mill ahead of our family.
I’m sorry I tried to compensate for that by giving you and Lucas things instead of being there for you.
I’m sorry for getting so caught up in work that I lost perspective and forgot that saving a family legacy means nothing if you lose that family in the process. ”
The server swung by with a basket of bread, and Martin fell silent. Took another sip of his water.
After the man left, he continued. “You walking out was the spur I needed to reevaluate my priorities and realize how messed up they were. So since you left, I’ve been making some course corrections and trying to get my life back on track.”
“I’ve heard about a number of them.” She folded her hands on the table in front of her. “Lucas told me you visited him.”
“Yes. Did he give you many details?”
“Some, but I’d like to hear your take.”
He complied, and his recap of the trip mirrored what Lucas had relayed—including his conclusion.
“Bottom line, he agreed to stay in touch, and we’ve been texting every couple of days. I was grateful he was willing to give me another chance, and I’m hoping he’ll want to come home for a weekend down the road.”
The server appeared with their lunch, and silence fell as the man deposited their plates on the table and refilled their water glasses.
When he left, Diane picked up her fork. “I also heard about the lumber donation for the show, and that you’re helping build the sets. I understand you’ve gone back to church too.”
One side of his mouth rose. “It sounds like you’ve been keeping tabs on me.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. It’s a small town. News travels.” She broke off a bite of her quiche.
“I do have one other piece of information to share that isn’t public knowledge yet.”
At a curious nuance in his inflection, she gave him a wary look. “Okay.”
“I asked Aaron Steele to take an equity interest in the mill as my partner.”
What?
She stared at him. Set her fork down as she tried to digest that bombshell. “Why?”
“Lucas has no interest in being part of the business, and I’d like to see the mill continue.
The key driver, though, was that sharing management duties will free me up to spend more time with the woman I love.
” His gaze locked onto hers, his eyes filled with hope and desperation and the kind of devotion she hadn’t seen in years.
“I love you, Diane. I always have and I always will. You’re everything to me, and I’m sorry I haven’t told you that more often in the past fourteen years.
I’m also sorry my behavior didn’t demonstrate how I felt. ”
Her vision blurred, and she glanced down.
Those were the words she’d hoped he’d say the day he’d come to see her at Anna’s. The ones she’d longed to hear all the nights he’d spent in his home office while she’d slept alone. The ones she’d begun to wonder if she’d ever hear again.
“There have been days I doubted that. When I thought you’d stopped loving me.” She could barely choke out the confession.
His features contorted, as if he was in pain. “Never. And until the day I die, I’ll regret letting all the problems at the mill mess with my priorities.”
She looked at him, this man who’d stolen her heart while they were both in the first blush of youth. He’d been handsome then. He still was, though his good looks had been tempered by worry and years that had added gray to his temples and lines to his face.
“You mentioned the mill problems the day you came to see me at Anna’s too.” She dropped one hand to her lap. Clenched her fingers. “Don’t you think it’s time you told me about those?”
He exhaled. Nodded. “Past time. But it’s not a pretty story, Diane.”
“Nothing in the past fourteen years has been pretty. I’d like to know what started all the ugliness.”
“That was on my agenda for today. Why don’t you go ahead and eat while I talk? Otherwise, your food will get cold.”
Despite her nonexistent appetite, she picked up her fork. It would be rude to leave the lunch he was buying her untouched.
But the longer he talked, the more he told her about the crisis that had dropped into his lap at the mill, the harder it became to swallow her food.
He hadn’t been exaggerating.
The story wasn’t pretty.
How could a father dump such a mess on his son? Yes, the elder Steele had been worried about his wife’s deteriorating health, but it had been unconscionable to turn the mill over to Martin with almost no warning about its precarious financial position.
Yet the scenario was consistent with the way Martin’s father operated. The way he’d taught his son to operate. Always keep everything close to your vest and never admit you’re in trouble. Don’t show any sign of weakness. Just carry on alone and get the job done.
So while his parents traipsed off to Arizona, Martin had undergone a baptism by fire as he attempted to save a faltering family legacy.
Diane tried to swallow the bite of quiche in her mouth, but when it stuck in her throat, she groped for her water. Washed it down.
How alone Martin must have felt during that difficult period. How cornered. How pressured. How overwhelmed.
That didn’t excuse his behavior toward her and Lucas, of course, but the difficult situation he’d inherited did explain the forces that had shaped his conduct.
At the end of his story, he let out a slow breath. “My intentions were good, but in trying to spare you and Lucas all the turmoil I was going through, I created a different kind of turmoil for both of you. I’m sorry for that too. Sorrier than I can say.”
“I wish you’d shared all this with me from the beginning.” She gave up all pretense of eating and laid her fork on the table. “A marriage is supposed to be a partnership. A collaboration.”
“I know. I’ve made a lot of mistakes. Maybe too many to forgive.
But today I’m asking for forgiveness anyway—and a second chance.
I’ve changed, Diane, and I’m not going back to the way I was.
I plan to become more active in the community and at church, less consumed by work, and more involved with you and Lucas.
If you agree to come back, you can set the terms for how we proceed going forward.
I’ll do whatever it takes to restore our marriage.
I’ll even sell the house if you want me to. ”
He was willing to part with the house that represented concrete proof he’d weathered the storm at the mill and emerged triumphant?
That was huge.
But it wasn’t necessary.
“The house wasn’t why our marriage and our family fell apart, Martin.”
“I know, but I also don’t want it to stand in the way of us getting back together.”
She picked up her napkin. Dabbed at the corner of her mouth. “You’ve thrown a lot at me.”
“I realize that, and I know you need to think everything through. I don’t expect an answer today—but if there’s anything else I can do to convince you I’m serious about all the changes I’m making, let me know.
” He picked up his fork and offered her another strained smile.
“I know you have to leave soon, but I’d like to hear about your job and the show while I tackle this quiche. ”
She inspected his entree. “It may be cold by now.”
“Trust me, it’s better than most of what I’ve been eating. Tell me about your typical day at work.”
In response to his first few questions, she offered short, perfunctory answers.
But when he appeared to be sincerely interested in both her job and the show, she began to expand on her responses.
They even laughed together over a story she told about Father Murphy’s antics at one of the rehearsals.
Like they used to do whenever something tickled their funny bones.
It felt good to share that moment of humor. Very good.
The conversation was flowing so well, in fact, that she forgot about the ticking clock.
In the end, with a regretful tap of his watch, Martin had to remind her their lunch date was coming to an end. “I hate to break this up, but I don’t want you to get in trouble at work.”
“I do have to go.” She reached for her purse and stood.
He rose too—a nicety long absent from their marriage. “Would you like me to walk you to your car?”
“No. The restaurant may not appreciate it if you leave without paying the bill.” She took a step back. “Thank you for lunch.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“I’ll be in touch—but I do need to give this careful thought.”
“I understand. I’ll wait, for however long it takes.”
She left him standing by the table, and when she glanced back from the door, he was still there, watching her.
He raised a hand in farewell, and she reciprocated. Then she exited the restaurant.
Outside, clouds had scuttled in and the day had dimmed.
But the sun was shining in her heart.
Not because she and Martin had resolved all their issues. Not by a long shot. And she had some serious thinking to do before she committed to a reconciliation attempt. Going back to an untenable situation would be soul shattering.
Yet as she walked to her car, her heart felt lighter and brighter than it had in years.
It took her several moments to put a name to the feeling that had been absent from her life for too long, but once she did, her lips curved up.
It was called hope.
And for the first time in a long while, she let herself believe that maybe . . . just maybe . . . she and Martin and Lucas could be a family again.