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“I thought it would work. And for a while it did.” Tyler’s voice quavered. “But the thing is, I drive over an hour and a half to the shop, work eight to ten hours, and then drive an hour and a half home. My wife is pregnant and is trying to make the cupcake shop work. And in the meantime we have two little kids with another on the way. Something’s got to give, and the construction job seems like the logical choice. Right now I get home in time to read Evan and Ella a story and then tuck them into bed.”
Tyler sat up and settled his gaze on Kevin. “But Evan is going to play T-ball this year, and Ella wants to try dance. If I keep this up, I’ll miss it. I’ll miss everything, and then I’m going to wake up and they’ll be graduating high school, and I’ll not know what it was like to see the first time Evan hits a ball or have a memory of kissing my little girl’s chubby cheek and telling her to go break a leg at her first recital. And we haven’t even touched on the new one coming next year. I don’t want to miss these things. I don’t want those kinds of regrets.”
Tyler sat forward and gripped Kevin’s forearm. “I know you worked for over twenty years to build this business. And you did an incredible job. But I can’t take it on, Dad. It’s not working for my family, and I just can’t do it.”
There it was. The hard truth. Spoken in love, but difficult to accept nonetheless. Even so, Kevin forced down his own disappointment and looked at the situation from Tyler’s perspective—and it was a tough one to be in.
It had been so important to Kevin that he be a dad to his kids. He had desperately wanted his children to have what he’d been denied all his childhood. How could he want less for his grandchildren?
He didn’t.
He nodded. “I don’t want you to miss those things either.”
Tyler exhaled a ragged breath. “Like I said, this timing might be bad. I’m sorry for it.”
“What are you thinking, time-wise?”
Propping his elbows on the table, Tyler leaned in. “I’ll wrap up the Eisley contract—Brandon is done with his classes and said he’d stay the week after Christmas to help me get it done. Then there are a few bits and pieces to tidy up. By the first of the year . . .”
Less than a month. Kevin’s lifework would wrap up in less than a month, and he wouldn’t even be able to see it through. He studied the woodgrain of the table while he worked to steady his emotions.
“So that’s it then. Retirement is upon me.” It sounded utterly pathetic, which Kevin despised. But there it was. He glanced at the leather chair in the corner. “Good thing that’s comfortable.” More absurd self-pity. Man, was he a grown-up or not?
“Oh no.” Tyler knocked on the table with a fist. “Don’t you dare do that. I’m not sure who will go nuts first, you or Mom, if you retire yourself to an armchair.”
Kevin snorted a small laugh. “That is true. I was just wondering how manyAndy Griffithreruns I really could handle.”
“Watch all you want in the evenings.”
With an arched brow, Kevin looked at Ty with a mild challenge. “And during the days?”
Pushing off his elbows, Ty looked down at the table, then smoothed a flat palm over the glossy surface. “This is a nice table, Dad. A really nice piece. Bet it’d sell.”
“Your mother would cry.”
Tyler shook his head and held a long gaze on him.
Clarity dawned. “Carpentry? Like build furniture?”
“You have the shop already, and it’s five minutes away. And this”—he patted the table—“is a reasonable one-man job.”
All true. But. “How would I sell them? I don’t have a showroom.”
“E-commerce, Dad.”
“Like I know anything about that.”
Tyler winked. “Good thing you have several women in your life who are quite good at it. Not to mention Jacob. He’s become an outstanding website designer.”
Ah. Yes, that was true. Helen, Lauren, Mackenzie . . . and Ms. Jade Beck, whom he had yet to meet. And Jacob. All were well acquainted with the marketing and selling of goods online.
It had possibilities.
Feeling less pathetic and hopeless, Kevin leaned forward and reached for Tyler’s arm. With a pat and then a squeeze, Kevin let the moments settle between them. Both men sipped what remained of their lukewarm coffee.
“What about you?” Kevin asked. “What will you do?”
Tyler crossed his arms. “Matt says he could always use a hand, and Becca could definitely use help in the shop. I usually schedule three or four speaking engagements through the year—maybe I’ll add one more.” A significant decrease from the twenty a year or so Tyler had done before and shortly after he’d married Becca. He shrugged. “And I’ll get to be dad. Like you were.”
