That alarmed me immediately.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You look pleased with yourself.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
“I’m going downstairs.”
“For how long?”
“Two hours.”
“One.”
“Two.”
“Ninety minutes.”
He extended his hand across the counter.
“Partner negotiation.”
I took it.
“Ninety minutes, followed by reassessment.”
“Accepted.”
Marian was not due to start until Wednesday, but the yard already seemed to be preparing for her arrival.
I had emptied two filing cabinets. Caleb had labeled the storage shelves. Owen had hidden three chipped mugs because he believed Marian would throw them away on sight.
At eight, the representative for the new hydraulic work equipment arrived.
His name was Gavin Merrill. He wore an orange rain shell, carried laminated diagrams, and spoke about machinery as though each component possessed emotional needs.
He brought a low-profile lift table, two adjustable rolling stools, and a mobile gantry designed to move battery banks and compact engines without requiring anyone to bear the full load.
Noah circled the equipment with his walking pole.
“The gantry base is too wide for the south bay.”
Gavin looked toward the painted boundaries on the floor.
“You’re right.”
“It will sit over the drainage channel.”
“We could rotate the base.”
“Then the load path crosses the clean zone.”
Gavin studied him.
