Logan wished he could scrub the worries out of his brain. He had always been good at numbers. He had always been good at business. That was why the current situation was so frustrating. A looming loan payment and a year-end tax filing weighted the balance sheet heavily into the red. Despite taking a surgeon’s scalpel to the budget, he wasn’t able to stop the bleeding, not completely.

He glared at the screen and brooded some more, until his eyes glazed over.

The front door opened and shut. His father came in, looking around the small space, the shelves crammed with files and work product.

“So this is where it all happens,” said Al.

Logan pushed back from his computer screen, which displayed a spreadsheet with its depressing numbers. “Not exactly O’Donnell Industries,” he said.

“How’s it going?” asked his father.

There was a world of meaning in the question. What his father really wanted to know was whether or not Logan’s crazy enterprise was panning out. Was he making money or losing his shirt?

“I know that look,” said Al. “I realize you think I spent your entire boyhood with my nose in a business ledger, but believe it or not, I knew where you were, every minute. Still do.”

Logan was startled. “If that’s the case, then why did you just stand by and watch me go off the rails?”

“I didn’t stand by, and you didn’t go off the rails. The things that happened, yeah, some of it was hard, but I watched you turn yourself into a man, same as you’re doing for Charlie. A person can get crippled if he doesn’t figure things out on his own.”

Logan thought about all the dumb mistakes he’d made, the way he’d bumbled through the rough years. But looking back, he realized that despite the trouble and the hurt he’d endured, he wouldn’t change a thing. “Tough love?” he asked.

“That’s what I’ve heard it called. Then again, there’s no shame in asking for help. Sometimes,” said his father, “all you have to do is ask.”

“It’s Christmas Eve.” Darcy came bustling into the office. Her cheeks were bright from the cold, and she looked amazing, outfitted for skating on the lake. “You can’t sit here laboring over the books like Bob Marley.”

He grinned and pushed back from his desk. She was like a breath of fresh air, especially in the wake of his surprising conversation with his father. “Don’t you mean Jacob Marley?”

“Whatever. The point is, it’s Christmas Eve and you’re working.”

He stood up and reached for his jacket. “You’re a good influence on me. Where’s everybody else?”

“India took the four boys skating on Willow Lake.”

“Hope they’re staying out of trouble.”