Once he told me Arthur had built a shelf in their old hardware store for children who wanted to learn woodworking, then stopped using it after an argument about the business.

“He wanted the shop to be something more than a shop,” Richard said quietly.

“I couldn’t see it then.”

“He had trouble telling people what he wanted,” I answered.

Richard smiled without amusement.

“That sounds like him.”

The conversation didn’t repair all their lost years.

It gave us something small and honest to hold.