I turned toward her.
“I understand that.”
She looked relieved.
Then I added.
“What I don’t understand is why you let everybody believe Hoy had taken something from Dad.”
Mom lowered her eyes.
For several seconds, she didn’t answer.
Then whispered.
“It was easier than explaining everything.”
I stared.
Those words hurt more than I expected.
For nearly thirty years, it had been easier to let Hoy carry a false reputation than admit Dad had made a choice he later regretted.
Skyler looked toward the document.
Then at our parents.
“You told me that story my whole life.”
Dad sighed.
“Skyler, there are things adults do that children don’t understand.”
She shook her head.
“I’m not a child anymore.”
For the first time, I saw my sister question him without looking toward Mom for approval.
Dad seemed uncertain.
Then he returned to the subject of work.
“I have twenty-six years of financial experience. Surely that counts for something.”
I nodded.
“It does.”
His expression softened slightly.
Then I continued.
“But it doesn’t make you the owner of this company.”
For several seconds, he stared.
Then I added.
“And it doesn’t create a management position we don’t need.”
Dad looked toward Hoy.
“You’re really going to let him treat me this way?”
Hoy had been quiet throughout the conversation.
Now he placed his coffee cup on the counter.
Then said.
“Monty, nobody is treating you unfairly.”
Dad opened his mouth.
Hoy continued.
“Reed offered you honest work. The same kind of work he accepted when you told him to leave your house.”
The shop became very quiet.
For a moment, I could hear the coffee percolator behind Marva’s desk.
Then Hoy added.
“He didn’t arrive here with a résumé demanding a corner office. He started on a truck.”
Dad looked toward me.
Then toward the floor.
I took a breath.
“Those positions are still available. The pay is seventeen dollars an hour, with overtime when the work requires it. You’ll receive the same training and consideration as anyone else.”
Skyler looked uncomfortable.
“Would I have to do that work, too?”
I nodded.
“If you want one of those positions.”
She sighed.
“I have a marketing degree.”
“I know.”
For a moment, she stared.
Then I said gently.
“Having a degree is valuable, Skyler. But it doesn’t mean every business has the job you want.”
She looked down.
Dad folded the copy of Grandpa’s will.
Then slipped it into his portfolio.
He left the signed sale agreement on the counter.
For several seconds, he stared toward the door.
Finally, he said.
“I thought you’d understand what family means.”
I looked toward him.
For a moment, I felt eighteen again.
Standing beside the garage.
Holding two duffel bags.
Waiting for someone to tell me I didn’t have to leave.
Then I took a breath.
“Dad, family is why Uncle Hoy came for me that night.”
His expression tightened.
I continued.
“Family is why Marva helped me figure out college. Family is why Hoy paid part of my tuition when he needed that money for equipment.”
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then I added.
“You can apply for a job here. But you can’t claim a business you sold or a position that doesn’t exist.”
Dad looked away.
Then walked toward the door.
Skyler followed.
Mom stopped beside the entrance.
She turned back.
“We’re still your parents, Reed.”
My throat tightened.
For a moment, I wanted to tell her how often I’d wished those words had meant something during the previous six years.
Instead, I answered quietly.
“I know.”
She seemed relieved.
Then I continued.
“But you had six years to ask whether I was okay.”
Her eyes filled.
I took a breath.
“I didn’t ask you for tuition. I asked you to help with one form.”
Mom lowered her eyes.
I continued.
“You had so many chances to show up.”
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she whispered.
“I’m sorry.”
I looked at her.
I wanted to believe it.
Maybe one day I would.
But I wasn’t ready to pretend those six years had disappeared.
So I nodded.
“Thank you for saying that.”
She left.
The door closed softly.
For a long moment, the shop remained quiet.
Then Marva stood.
She went to the coffee pot.
Poured three cups.
One for Hoy.