Aubrey stood beside the register holding a tablet.
Otis Grim and his friend Clarence were near the coffee pot.
For a moment, everyone looked toward me.
Dad’s expression hardened.
“Come to celebrate taking the county account?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
He folded his arms.
“Then what do you want?”
I walked toward the counter.
Placed the calendar pages in front of him.
Then turned them so he could read.
For several seconds, Dad stared at the handwriting.
His expression changed.
He knew immediately what they were.
I pointed toward the May entry.
“Rex came by. Keep opening for Brock. Don’t tell him I was here.”
The store became quiet.
For a moment, even the coffee group stopped talking.
I looked toward Dad.
“You drove to Hale in May.”
He didn’t answer.
“You asked Sully to hold a job for me.”
His jaw tightened.
I continued.
“Then you made sure I left your store in June.”
Mom appeared in the office doorway.
Aubrey looked toward the papers.
I took a breath.
“Why?”
Dad looked away.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Finally, he said.
“I wanted you to have somewhere to land.”
I stared.
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
He shifted on the stool.
“Because you would’ve argued.”
I nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
For a moment, I looked around the store.
The half-empty shelves.
The dark paint counter.
The missing repair bench.
Then I continued.
“I would’ve asked why six years of running this business meant less than Aubrey’s new degree.”
Dad frowned.
“That’s not what this was about.”
I looked toward him.
“Then what was it about?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Finally, he said.
“Your sister needed a chance.”
My throat tightened.
“And I didn’t?”
For several seconds, Dad remained quiet.
Then he spoke softly.
“You had other options.”
I looked at him.
“Sully offered me that job in March.”
Dad nodded.
“I know.”
“I turned it down because I thought you needed me.”
His expression changed.
I pointed toward the calendar.
“Sully wrote it down.”
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then I said.
“You knew I’d turned down a better opportunity to keep helping you.”
Dad looked toward the counter.
Then whispered.
“I wanted both my children settled.”
I took a slow breath.
“So you arranged for one of us to leave and told everybody he abandoned you.”
Otis set down his coffee cup.
He looked toward Dad.
“Rex, that’s what you’ve been telling us.”
Dad frowned.
“Otis.”
But Otis continued.
“Every afternoon. You said Brock walked out and left you short-handed.”
Dad didn’t answer.
Clarence looked toward the floor.
Mom stepped forward.
“Your father thought this would be easier.”
I turned toward her.
“Easier for who, Mom?”
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
For a moment, her eyes filled.
I looked toward Aubrey.
She was standing very still.
Finally, she asked.
“Dad, you planned for Brock to leave?”
Dad shifted.
“Aubrey, honey, it wasn’t like that.”
She looked down at the calendar.
Then back at him.
“You told me he couldn’t handle the new business model.”
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
She continued.
“You told me he was holding the store back because he didn’t understand management.”
Dad looked toward her.
Then whispered.
“I wanted you to feel confident.”
Aubrey stared.
For the first time since graduating, my sister seemed uncertain about the story she’d been told.
Then she asked.
“Was any of that true?”
Dad didn’t answer.
I looked toward her.
For a moment, I felt sad.
Aubrey had worked hard for her degree.
She deserved to be proud of that.
But she’d been handed authority without the experience needed to understand what she was changing.
And Dad had encouraged her to believe that replacing me was proof of her ability.
I took a breath.
“Aubrey, you can become a good manager.”
She looked toward me.
I continued.
“But you have to understand that people aren’t just expenses on a slide.”
Her eyes filled.
I gestured toward the empty paint counter.
“Joan knew things no computer could replace overnight.”
Then toward the lumber yard.
“Chad had relationships with builders going back decades.”
I looked toward the empty repair corner.
“People came here because they trusted us to help them solve problems.”
For several seconds, Aubrey remained quiet.
Then I added.
“You can learn those things. But first you have to decide they’re worth learning.”
Dad stepped around the counter.
For a moment, he looked older than I’d ever seen him.
Then he said.
“All right, Brock.”
I waited.
“Come back.”
I stared.
He continued.
“You can run the store again.”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak.
Then he added.
“Real manager title. Better pay.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
His expression changed.
“Brock.”
I held his gaze.
“No, Dad.”
He took a breath.
“What if I make you a partner?”
I remained quiet.
“Half the business. Your name on the sign.”
For a moment, I thought about the little boy standing on a wooden crate cutting keys.
The teenager who loved organizing bolt drawers.
The twenty-year-old who worked long days while his father recovered.
For years, I’d wanted nothing more than to hear Dad say the business could become mine.
Now he was offering it.
Only after losing employees.
Customers.
The county account.
And the sense of control he’d always assumed he had.
I took a slow breath.
“That’s not what I want anymore.”
Dad stared.
Then he said.