Kind of like his marriage and his relationship with his son.
How had his life spiraled so out of control?
He set the damaged award on his desk. Crossed to the window in his office that offered a view of the mill floor below.
Second shift remained hard at work at this late hour, but soon quiet would descend and the workers would go home to their families.
Leaving him here alone, in his isolated management perch.
He took a step back from the window, catching a glimpse of himself in the reflection from the glass. Let out a slow breath as he examined the brackets beside his mouth, the hard line of his jaw, the two vertical furrows etched above his nose, the flinty eyes.
The face glowering back at him felt like it belonged to a stranger.
It was hard to spot even a remnant of the man he’d been before Dad retired and dumped the mill—and all its problems—on him.
Who could have guessed that the Fisher patriarch who’d run such a tight ship, who’d been a harsh taskmaster both at homeand on the job, would let things get so out of hand behind the scenes at the mill? To the point that it was teetering on the brink of disaster.
In hindsight, it was clear that Mom’s health issues had been more of a distraction than Dad had ever let on, resulting in disengagement at work—and a balance sheet on life support left behind for the next in command.
Namely, his son.
Martin raked his fingers through his graying hair.
What a mess he’d inherited when Dad and Mom moved to Arizona because of her COPD. It had taken every ounce of his time and energy to right the listing ship, to get the company out of the red, make it profitable again. And what a long, slow, and lonely slog it had been.
He wandered back to his desk. Dropped into his chair. Rested his elbows on the polished wood surface and rubbed his temples.
Maybe, in hindsight, he should have shared some of his struggles with Diane.
But admitting doubts and concerns suggested weakness, and that had never been acceptable in the home of his youth. You sucked it up and toed the line and took care of your family. You also presented yourself to the world from a position of strength. Always.
Yet it appeared that course of action had backfired.
Yes, he’d sheltered Diane and Lucas from his worries. Provided them with every material possession they could want. Cut Lucas far more slack than his hard-nosed father had cut him. Created a successful and in-control image at the mill and in town.
And what did he have to show for all his efforts?
A flourishing company—but a faltering marriage and a son who wanted nothing to do with him.
He exhaled.
The big house, the fancy clothes, the lavish trips he’d provided for his family may have demonstrated his success to the world,proven he had the chops to run the family business—yet according to Diane, that business had replaced her and Lucas in his heart.
But she was wrong. He loved them both.
Nevertheless, workhadcontinued to dominate his life long after the company was back on solid ground.
Funny how success could create a hunger for more of the same. A desire to make your mark by soaring to new heights. To prove to his father that he was not only worthy of the job but better at it than his predecessors.
That mission, he’d accomplished. He’d saved the company for the next generation. Preserved the family legacy for his son.
Except his son didn’t want it.
So where did that leave him?
He stared at his reflection in the glass across the room again, the answer eluding him.
But one thing he knew.
