Shifting gears, he waved the man in. “Sorry. I didn’t see you coming. With all the glass in here, I usually spot visitors as they approach.”
“No worries. I’m a few minutes early, and you seemed focused on the view.” The man entered. Paused inside the door, as if unsure of his welcome.
“Have a seat.” Martin indicated the chairs on the other side of the desk. Started toward his own seat. Hesitated. Rounded the desk instead and took the chair next to the one Adam had claimed. “Father Murphy said you could use some lumber for the show. How can I help?”
The man pulled a sheet of paper from the folder and handed it over. “This list covers everything set-related—lumber, canvas, paint, hardware. Bob Howard is providing the paint and hardware through his store. We’re still working to find a canvas supplier. We’d be grateful for whatever lumber you can provide.”
Martin scanned the modest list of lumber needs. “I can take care of all of this. If you aren’t able to find a donor for the canvas, I’ll cover that expense too.”
“That’s very generous. Thank you. Any questions?”
“No.” He skimmed the list again. “Everything is straightforward.”
“This didn’t take as long as I expected.” Adam smiled. “Is there anyone in particular I should call here to work out the logistics of the donation?”
“I can be your main contact. But Aaron Steele, my supervisor, will arrange delivery of the lumber wherever you’re working on sets.”
“That would be the high school. Since the show will be in theauditorium there, it’s easiest to do construction on-site. I’ll contact Aaron and coordinate the delivery with him.” He closed the empty folder and rose. “I’m sure you’re busy. I won’t take up any more of your day. Thank you again.”
Martin stood too, pulse picking up.
Now was the time to eat crow. His least favorite food—but it was the right thing to do. And it was long overdue.
He swallowed. Cleared his throat. “Before you leave, I, uh, want to apologize for what happened a few years ago with my son. I’m sorry you took the brunt of his bad behavior. I’m also sorry I didn’t make him own up to his actions.”
Adam blinked ... then dipped his head in acknowledgment. “I appreciate that. Fortunately, there weren’t any long-term negative consequences.”
“There could have been.”
“I try not to dwell on those. Besides, now that I’m married to the police chief, I doubt there will be any issues in the future.” His mouth twitched, a glint of humor sparking in his irises.
Conscience smarting, Martin let out a slow breath.
The ex-con turned master woodworker, whose pieces were sought by customers from all over the country, was being far more cordial thanhewould have been, had the situation been reversed.
“Thank you for not holding my mistake against me.”
“We all make mistakes. And you know what they say about holding a grudge. It’s like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies. I don’t want to spend my life being bitter.”
It was hard not to admire Adam’s attitude—and fortitude.
“If it makes any difference, Lucas has gotten his act together.”
“I know. He sent me a letter while he was in the juvenile facility, apologizing for trying to frame me. He told me he’d also contacted Brian Hutton, the high school classmate he tried to pull into the mess too. Lucas and I still touch base on occasion. Not everyone who starts down the wrong path turns their life around like he did. You must be proud of the man he’s become.”
Lucas had written to Adam and the Hutton kid?
Did Diane know about that?
If so, why had she never mentioned it?
As for being proud ... yeah, he was.
And letting his anger over Lucas’s unwillingness to be part of Fisher Lumber blind him to all of the positive changes his son had made in his life had been flat-out wrong.
Adam was waiting for a response, so he dredged one up. “Yes, I am. He did an amazing one-eighty.”
And he was going to commend Lucas for that. Soon, if all went as planned.
