“I wanted to let you know—I talked Simpson out of buying that lake property.”
I stare at the wall. “He removed his offer?”
“Yeah. The land can’t be commercially developed anyway. Environmental protections. I told him he’d be throwing his money away on a property that would never get permits. Figured you’d want to know.”
“I wasn’t even sure you were going to do this.” It isn’t like him to get involved in something that wouldn’t directly benefit him.
“You asked me to prevent him from buying it,” he says. “This heart condition has given me perspective I wish I’d had years ago. I’m trying to make better choices while I still can. Besides, you mentioned someone special, so I knew this was important to you.”
“Neesha is everything to me,” I admit, leaning against thewall. I’m not sure what’s brought on this shift in my father, but if he’s serious about changing, maybe I can ask for something bigger—something that would protect the place Neesha calls home.
“Dad, have you heard about the situation in Maple Falls with Alexander MacDonald? He’s claiming ownership of almost half the town because he’s related to a man who settled here long ago.”
“I’m aware of it, yes. It’s been all over the news.”
“His lawyer, Jeremy Hunt, is using aggressive tactics to push through what’s essentially a takeover of community land assets—including part of the downtown and the bookstore where Neesha works, and some of the property the arena sits on. They’re banking on the town not having the resources to fight back properly.”
“What does this have to do with Northwest Development?”
“You have the legal team to challenge questionable claims like this. From what I’ve heard, MacDonald’s case has holes—there are environmental and historical protections and some of the land has been in municipal use for decades. Hunt’s being aggressive because he knows if anyone with real legal firepower pushes back, their case falls apart.”
My father is suddenly quiet.
“All it would take is your company challenging their claims. Hunt would back down once he realizes he’s facing a real legal team instead of a small town with limited resources.”
“You’re asking me to go to war with another businessman over property claims,” he says slowly. “That’s not typically how my company operates.”
“I know what I’m asking, Dad,” I say, then pause. “Would you at least think about it?”
He lets out a sigh. “I’ll see what my legal team can do, but I can’t promise anything.” In the background, I hear him shift in his chair. “Lucian, the fact that you’d call me, ask me for help after all the strain between us…that says something about the man your grandfather helped raise.” His voice grows quiet. “Which makes what I did to him even worse.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“You haven’t heard the whole story,” he says wearily, then hesitates. “I convinced him to invest everything, then pushed him out when the company took off. I told myself it was just business, but it was because I didn’t want his interference. I was afraid he’d press me to make decisions that would cost the company too much money. Instead, it cost me the best man I ever knew.”
This is the first time he’s ever admitted what really happened—the first time he’s taken responsibility for his actions.
“And now, with this heart condition, I keep thinking about all the time I wasted. I can’t make things right with your grandfather anymore…but it’s not too late with you.” Papers rustle in the background. “Which is why I’m transferring your grandfather’s investment back to you with interest. It’s what he should have had all along.”
I lean my head against the wall, stunned. “Are you sure? That’s a lot of money, Dad.”
“The money was never mine to begin with. I’m just sorry I couldn’t make it right while he was still alive to see it.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
He sighs, then takes his time before responding. “Lucian, I know we haven’t been close lately…but would you consider letting me visit?”
When I don’t answer, he adds, “I’d like the chance to learn more about your life, if you’d be open to it?”
I recall Grandpa’s words about hope being the only thing that keeps us moving forward when everything else falls apart. Maybe that’s what I can offer my father now—hope that it’s never too late for a second chance.
“I’d like to try,” I say, hesitant, but hopeful about reconciling with my father. “Do you have Thanksgiving plans?”
“Not yet,” Dad says, and for the first time in years, he sounds like a man who just got his life back.
Just then, Jamie steps out from the locker room. “Lowe, you ready?”
I nod. “Dad, I need to go. We’ve got a game tonight.”
