“What is he interested in?”
“Graphic design. Which I guess isn’t surprising. He was always drawing as a kid. And he had talent. In middle school he won first place in a regional art contest.”
“You must have been proud of him.”
“I was.” Even if an issue at the mill had kept him from attending the awards ceremony.
“It seems a shame for someone with such a gift not to pursue it.” The priest’s tone was conversational, without a whiff of censure.
“That’s what Diane always said, but I was too angry at Lucas to listen. I still would be if she hadn’t shaken everything up by leaving.”
“I wonder if that was the point.” Father Murphy rested his elbow on the back of the bench. “Sometimes it takes a dramatic gesture to bring about a change.”
“Whatever her motive, she got my attention.” He watched a butterfly flit from flower to flower, never coming to rest, as if it couldn’t decide where to land. “I told her last week I’d try harder, make some adjustments, but I don’t think she believed me.”
“I wonder if she’s waiting for evidence that you mean what you say.”
Martin frowned as Diane’s parting comment replayed in his mind.
“Words are easy. Follow-through isn’t.”
Was it possible the padre was right? Did Diane want concrete proof that he’d meant what he said before she’d consider rethinking her decision to leave?
Maybe.
“You could be right, Father, but I’m not certain what that means in practical terms.”
“Well, as the old adage reminds us, actions can speak very loudly.”
“Like cutting back on my hours at the mill?”
“That could be a start.”
“Also a challenge.”
“A man doesn’t run a successful business unless he’s smart. I have a feeling you can find a way to make that happen if you put your mind to it.”
As the church bell tolled the half hour, the vague outlines of an idea began to take shape in his mind. One with distinct possibilities.
But job demands were only part of his dilemma.
“I may be able to find a workaround in terms of my hours at the mill, but Diane had other issues too.”
“More difficult to deal with than the job-related ones?”
No.
Getting involved with the Hope Harbor community could be awkward after keeping his distance for so long, but it would be easier than cutting back on work.
As for giving Diane more attention, that wouldn’t be a chore. They’d had fun together once upon a time. Ballroom dancing, hiking, date nights. Or simple, quiet evenings with a shared dinner at home, back in the days when they all used to eat their evening meal together.
Lucas was a different story.
“In general, no.” Martin unlinked his fingers and flexed them to restore circulation. “The other issues shouldn’t be too difficult to fix—other than trying to reconnect with Lucas.” And how sad was it that it had taken Diane’s prompt for him to reach out to his son again? He should have tried harder to mend their rift instead of letting anger over Lucas’s teen stunts and his refusal to join the mill drive a wedge between them. Put aside his stubborn pride and viewed the situation from his son’s point of view.
“Repairing broken relationships can be a formidable challenge, no question about it.” Father Murphy’s tone remained empathetic, without a hint of reproach. No wonder he was so well liked in town. “It often requires forgiveness, tolerance, humility, and acceptance. But the rewards are immense. And if the effort is undertakenwith love, the odds of success increase exponentially. Because love never fails.” He smiled. “I have that on the best authority, by the way.”
As the song of a bird trilled through the air, Martin let out a slow breath.
