Harkham's Corner (Harkham's Series Book 3) (25 page)

“You’re more than welcome! We’re so proud of you, we couldn’t possibly ever express it adequately.” His dad hugged him.

Thomas moved behind Adam.

“Thank you!” Adam hugged back.

Dustin actually picked him up off the ground, then set him back down, chuckling in his ear.

He released him, and when Adam turned to go find this car and inspect it, Thomas said in a low, somber tone, “I have something for you, too. But I’d like to give it to you in private after the party’s over, okay? Can I stop by later to give it to you at your home?” His eyes were in utter turmoil, and his lips quivered with thick emotions.

“Of course. That would be fine.” Adam hugged him since he could tell Thomas was about to fall apart or run from the room—or both.

“Okay, Son. You enjoy the party. I’ll see you later. Thanks for allowing me to be part of it.” Thomas left the room in the next moment.

Adam didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Zach yanked him out the door to the SUV and touted facts at him right and left about the engine, the capabilities of the vehicle and what a great buy it was.

Adam nodded along, listened a little, but mostly watched Mari’s reaction.

She seemed disturbed somehow.

“It’s too much for us,” he said, reading her mind.

He could see it in her standoffish presence. She held the baby away from the vehicle like it was a monster.

“We can’t take this,” Adam finally said. “Thank you so much for being so thoughtful, but we’re not ready for something this extravagant. We have kids. Our fun times include shopping at Costco, smelling the flowers at the Home Depot gardening section and having a date at a McDonald’s playland so Meg can run around and we can have an uninterrupted conversation. We wouldn’t even begin to know what to do with a car this nice. Get your money back, please.” Adam patted the side of the car and then turned his sights on Zach.

“No way in hell! You earned it. Don’t be an idiot, man.” Zach’s shoulders rose up and rounded at the same time.

“I’m smart. I graduated.” Adam dropped his hand.

“You don’t snub a gift.”

“You
do
if it’s the wrong gift, but you do it in a way that makes sense. This makes sense, what I’m telling you. If you want, you can return it and get something more sensible for a poor family.”

“Adam,” Zach huffed. “You’re not poor. Not anymore. Your music sales have exploded. You won’t be struggling anymore. You don’t even have to go to school anymore if you don’t want to. I have several agents lined up, clamoring for you. The club owner declined. I told her to walk away because this thing is bigger than you ever thought it would be.”

Family and friends gawked at them both.

Dustin came up and shepherded them away from the group. “It’s all up to you of course,” his dad told him. “But, Adam, think about this . . . When else have you been treated like royalty? Like you’re the king of the world? We want to give this to you more than anything.”

Adam’s heart swelled so big, it was hard to speak. “Every day, Dad. Every. Damn. Day. My wife treats me like I’m the god of her world. My kids make me feel important, too. So do you. Both of you.” He motioned between his brother and dad. “I don’t need a fancy car to feel better about my life. I need my wife to keep loving me, and right now, she looks terrified of this monstrous car. She doesn’t feel comfortable with it, and you know I won’t be driving it. Not a chance.” He held up his hand and shook Zach’s before his brother could protest since his mouth was opened and ready to blab about how that was a stupid choice. “She needs more space than I do with the kids. I should probably be driving the smallest car possible, but I was greedy and got my dream car even if it was an older model and needed lots of work done to it. So, you see? I don’t need your version of a dream car for me. I need her version of a dream car for her to feel safe, secure and happy.”

He clapped them both on the back, and his brother and dad gaped at him.

“I suppose we’ll take her car shopping then, huh?” Zach’s eyes were confused as he looked over at Mari, still standing back.

“Great idea. Button will love that, too. Dad and I will go out with Meg and enjoy her cuteness like we always do.” Adam smiled and walked away.

Times like these were good.

“Uh, how’s tomorrow?” Zach asked Mari.

She only smiled.

Adam knew why. Mari hated car shopping. But she’d get over it when she found the right vehicle and drove that sucker home.

* * *

There was a knock on the door that night, and Adam stiffened.

“I’ll get it,” he told his wife as he trudged to the door. He knew very well who would be on the other side of it.

A part of him was kind of excited, thrilled even, that Thomas was bringing him a special gift. But the other part was filled with misgivings. His father had tricked him before—turning something that should’ve been good as a gift, and making it something very frustrating and ugly for Adam.

His arms prickled as he opened the door. “Hi, Thomas,” Adam said, his stomach jumbly. He wasn’t sure if he should call him dad now, since right after the graduation ceremony that term just kind of slipped out before he hugged him. Had things changed between them?

He wasn’t sure. They had a nice conversation at the party today at Dustin’s, but that didn’t erase years of being a terrible and then later, neglectful parent.

“Hi, Son,” Thomas replied, smiling softly. “Is it too late to be here? If it is, I can come back tomorrow.”

His hands were empty. Adam didn’t see a gift anywhere. Did he get him a gift card?

And if that was the case, why didn’t he just give it to him at the party today? He made it sound like this gift would be personal, and not something to be treated lightly.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve been waiting for you,” Adam blurted. He didn’t mean to admit that. Telling his dad there was a connection threw the numbers at the back of his mind.

Adam hummed them away for a moment.

“Hey, I can see I’m already making you uncomfortable, so I’ll make this quick, okay?” His dad gestured inside the door. “So, can I—come in, I mean?”

“Sure, of course.” Adam waved him in, then stepped back.

“Are the kids still up?” Thomas glanced around.

“No, they just had baths and got put to bed. They were exhausted and getting whiny, so Mari said enough.” Adam chuckled. “She’s very smart that way. She just knows what they’re feeling without them ever saying it. Sometimes I think she can read their minds.”

“Most mothers are that way, I’ve found.”

“Except for mine,” Adam mumbled.

“Yes—except for yours,” Thomas replied, obviously hearing Adam’s snide comment. “And I wish it had been differently for you. I truly do.”

“And for Sam and Zach, too. They had to deal with it as well. I’m not the only child she had to deal with,” he reminded his father.

“That’s true, but you got the worst of it, because you were the first. It’s not really fair that you had to deal with the majority of her bad parenting”—Adam opened his mouth to speak, but Thomas held up and a palm and shook his head—“and mine, especially.” He sighed. “I’m no saint, that’s for certain. I never was.” He grabbed something right outside the door and stepped inside.

Adam’s eyes went wide. “Is that a . . . ?”

“Yeah—I thought you might like to branch out a little. Mix up your creative juices more since you like doing mixes with current popular songs. Time to do that with your instruments, too.” Thomas shrugged and brought the guitar case with him over to Adam’s couch.

His nice
brow
n couch that his kids were unable to stain, so it should be okay if his dad sat there, too.

Adam could allow it.

“Now, this is an older guitar, so it can be a little finicky at times, but once you get to know it well, there’s no problem at all.” Thomas opened the case and pulled it out.

It was all shiny and gleamy and very pretty.

Adam reached out a hand and stroked the side of it.

“Do you like it?” Thomas asked.

Adam swallowed. “Yeah. It’s like an old friend that I lost a long time ago that has found me again.” He smiled. “Did I ever touch your guitar when I was little?”

Thomas nodded. “You did. All the time.” He gave Adam a penetrating look. “You loved
this
guitar almost as much as my piano. If I took you off the piano, you’d head to this instead, unless you were sent to your room.”

“This is
your
guitar? One you’ve had for years?”

Thomas sat motionless, only staring at Adam with pleading eyes.

“I can’t take this,” Adam said, almost repulsed at the idea now. He knew how he’d feel if someone took his piano away that he’d grown to know and love so much. “It’s yours. It listens to you.”

“And I can’t play it much anymore. My fingers shake too much, and there’s some pain in the joints,” Thomas explained. He held up a hand, and sure enough—it was shaking quite a bit.

“Dad!” Adam gasped. “This isn’t good. Are you seeing a doctor about this?”

“It’s part of my reactions to the meds. Cancer’s a lot of fun.” He coughed and turned it into a laugh at the end.

Adam grimaced. “This isn’t funny.” Guilt swept through him.
He
could help his father. He could do it with some of his medical training, but hadn’t he already said he wouldn’t help this man, and that he wanted him to die?

Adam had yet to ask him about his prognosis, so he was unaware of how advanced the stage was or anything at all about it, other than he was in pain sometimes.

He also was unsure what type of cancer it was, but assumed it was lung.

“I’m fine—I didn’t come here to talk about me. I came here because you deserve this, and you earned it.” Thomas’s eyes welled up. “You’re an amazing man, and I get a little awestruck and inspired when I see how many lives you touch. You have the rare gift of honesty, coupled with a deep caring. That’s hard to find in a person—at least, at the level you have it.”

Adam’s mouth went dry, but he tried to swallow anyway. What could he say to this?

“Listen . . . I know I need to make this fast, so I’ll quit my blabbing.” Thomas strummed for a second, and then he played a familiar song.

One Adam knew very well, even if his dad’s unsteady hands bumbled it a few times. It was the song he’d written for Mari and then later had his vision of singing it with his dad when he was little.

“Did I create this song, or did you?”

His dad grinned. “What do
you
think?”

“
Me
?” Adam’s voice shook harder than his dad’s hands.

“Yes.” His dad closed his eyes and let the song take him over. “So brilliant. So brilliant. Always creating.” He hummed along as he played for a minute. “I should’ve been jealous, but I never was. Only spilling over with pride that my son was a prodigy and incredibly talented in so many ways. Your potential was off the charts.” When he opened his eyes, tears fell from them. “If I had been stronger and wiser, I would’ve made sure you’d succeeded and had proper training. That’s one of my regrets. But there was only so much I could do.” He ended the song abruptly and put the guitar back in the case.

“But I . . . You didn’t show me how to play it,” Adam said, fighting off a moan of disappointment. Something inside him gravitated toward this instrument, and it was nearly as strong as his desire to play the piano.

“I’m going to leave that adventure of learning this thing to you. No more of my meddling. No more of my trying to teach you anything.” Thomas smiled and his eyes were wet again. “I’ve finally figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” Adam’s brows scrunched together.

“I wasn’t ever meant to teach you a damn thing—that’s why it always backfired.” Adam wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. He couldn’t anyway, because Thomas stood and said, “It was always meant to be the other way around. You taught me from the start, I just didn’t listen. But now I am. I hear you, Son, and I’m glad you have such a strong voice.” He clapped a hand on Adam’s shoulder as he stayed seated. Thomas smiled down at him. “Thank you for that. It’s better than any gift I could ever give you or anyone else.”

Thomas showed himself out, and Adam’s heart kind of took off after him.

Shit. He didn’t want this man to be his dad, but that’s what he was now, whether Adam liked it or not.

They had a connection he couldn’t deny.

For some reason it felt right.

And it also made him think about all the positive people in his life and how he maybe didn’t give them enough credit or praise.

He picked up his phone and dialed Amelia.

“Adam, something wrong?” was her answer.

“No. Just that I’m an ungrateful pig toward you, and that’s not right. I want to make that right. I want you to know I care about you. I always have.” His gut tightened. He paced, hoping it would help.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. I just like you a lot is all, and I thought you should know.” He sighed, and it sounded happy and light.