Wood & Iron

Chapter 13

"But honestly, everything's good. There's no reason to worry about me."

Adam could tell that he hadn't appeased his brother, but he was more than ready for Benji to leave the office. It wasn't necessarily that he didn't like confrontation. He was more than willing to have a difficult conversation with an underperforming employee or an overpriced vendor. When he wasn't the one at fault, he had no problem having a tense talk. But it was a completely different story when Adam knew he had done something wrong. Nothing terrified him more than someone finding out his failure.

He'd been giving himself too much credit. Though he was scared to death of anybody finding out what he'd done, up until now, he was pretty sure that he'd kept it under wraps. The idea that Benji was even wondering what was wrong meant that he hadn't been as covert as he thought. Does everyone see that something is wrong?

When Benji finally closed the door behind him, Adam rushed over and turned the bolt on the lock. He quickly reached the filing cabinet on the other side of the room and punched in the code. He was moving franticly, as if someone were on the other side of the door, ready to force their way in and take the reports that were in Adam's hand. He spread them out on the desk, quickly poring over the documents. How obvious is it?

If his little brother could look at them and see what he thought he'd hidden, how easily would the board of directors see how close they were to having to shut the doors? And how much quicker would they find the seven-figure influx of cash that had followed?

The revelation of the latter would likely send Adam to prison. He wasn't sure what exactly he was allowing to take place on the northwest corner of his golf course. Still, he had a basic understanding of fraud and money laundering, and accepting hundreds of thousands of dollars and making it look like regular business revenue certainly seemed to fit the bill.

But it was the first revelation that scared him most. The thought of anyone discovering that he almost sunk the ship his father built and kept afloat for over 30 years was more terrifying than any conviction or prison cell.

Adam had a complicated relationship with his father. He grew up thinking that Henry Wood was perfect. In the summer, Adam would wake up early, hoping his dad would ask him to jump in the pickup and spend the day with him at the course. Henry Wood was the king of Wood & Iron Golf Club. Adam was in awe of how everyone who walked through the doors not only knew his father but also how they respected him. He could see how they stood straighter when Henry walked by and how they would all make sure to greet him when he walked through the clubhouse.

Another reason young Adam assumed his dad was perfect was because he'd never seen his father make a mistake. And even more, he'd never heard Henry admit to or apologize for anything. When middle school came and Adam started inevitably messing up, he had no framework for how to handle it. Whether it was a bad grade on a test, an accidental broken golf club, or the inevitable relational drama, Adam never learned how to own up to an error and make it right.

Living with the chasm between reality and what he portrayed to the world hadn't always been easy. But for the most part, Adam had learned to live with the tension, if not ignore it completely. But it normally felt like a slight rumbling under the surface, and now it was as if the entire volcano were about to erupt.

The panic was making its way through his tingling fingers as he ran them over the numbers on the page. He had no idea how much his relationship with his father had affected him. He didn't know that for his dad's generation, letting your kids see your flaws was letting your kids down. And he didn't realize that the way his father had spoken about the golf club for his entire life had shaped his view of it.

"These people have tough lives," Henry had told Adam on one of those pickup truck rides to the clubhouse. "We exist to help them forget that stuff for a while. Some of our folks are so busy that they can barely breathe. But once you get on the golf course, there's nothing you can do to hurry or speed up time for four hours. People need that. And that's not even to mention the friendship we can give them. Time Magazine said that loneliness was the number one cause of suicide last year. Just think about that. Think about that..."

In reality, Henry was just responding to Adam's question about why he chose to work every Saturday instead of spending it at home with the family. But those words drove Adam, even if he had no idea they'd stuck with him. And there were a thousand similar conversations that Henry had with his son over the years. Some of them had been intentional, while others had no purpose at all.

Regardless of what his father had intended, all those conversations were bubbling just below the surface of Adam's subconscious as he stared at the financial reports that could expose both his inability to run the club and his potentially criminal activity.

How will Dad ever forgive me?

That question bounced around Adam's mind as he leaned back in his chair, almost unable to breathe. He closed his eyes and breathed out through his nose.

The dull headache from the questions rolling around in his head was suddenly interrupted by the buzz of his phone sitting on the desk next to the folder of financials. He let the hum of the vibration go until the call was sent to his voicemail. He cherished the small amount of peace that came once the noise stopped. The peace was short-lived, though, as the rhythm of the vibration began again an inconsiderate amount of time after it had ceased.

This time, Adam opened his eyes to see who was calling him.

It was Evie Orchid.

For the past 18 months, every time his phone buzzed, he worried that it was her. But she hadn't called once since that initial invitation to lunch a year and a half ago. The pounding of his heart got even quicker and harder, and Adam wondered if he might be having a heart attack.

Why is she calling?

If it wasn't a heart attack, and he had been worried about that since his father's episode last year, it was undoubtedly a panic attack. And in the moment, Adam wasn't sure which one was worse. There are moments when it seems like the universe is throwing everything it can at you at once, just to see how you'll respond. And in that moment, sitting in his office chair with his face in his hands, Adam wanted to crawl into a ball and make it all disappear.

He waited for the buzz of his phone to cease, but it felt like it was going on forever. Adam had no idea how long he'd been sitting behind his desk in silence, but it was several minutes before he worked up the courage to open his eyes and grab his phone from the desk. The dark screen lit up, and Evie's voicemail was staring him in the face. Why can't this just all go away?

"Adam." The voice on the other end of the message was much calmer than he had anticipated. "Just wanted to give you a heads up that some people might be stopping by with some questions about our arrangement. Don't panic. They don't know anything. Let's keep it that way."

The less I know, the better.