“No. Not always.” Had Lucas forgotten about those games of catch, as well as the family picnics the three of them had gone on to Shore Acres State Park and the weekend camping trips they’d taken on occasion? “Not when you were younger.”
His features softened a tad. “I do remember you being around more when I was a kid. And being nicer. Then all of a sudden, you seemed mad and stressed 24/7. What happened?”
Martin took another swig of his now-cold coffee. Grimaced at the bitter taste it left on his tongue.
All these years, he’d sheltered Lucas and Diane from his problems at the mill.
Maybe it was time to be honest. Not to justify his bad behavior, but to make it clear there’d been a reason for the change in his personality.
Diane deserved the full explanation first, but until she was willing to talk to him, he could give Lucas the topline.
“That’s a valid question. One I hope to talk about with your mother too, if she’ll give me the opportunity. I’ll share more details with you after I have that conversation with her, but bottom line,when your grandfather turned over the mill to me, it was a mess. We were running on fumes.”
Lucas frowned. “I thought the business was always on solid ground.”
“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 meto 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.
