Chapter 7 - The Final Inspection
A soft knock echoed at the newly hung front door.
Carol looked up from her blueprints, raising an eyebrow. "Expecting company?"
"No," I said, stepping toward the entryway. "Nobody knows we're still here except the local postman."
I pulled the door open.
Standing on the porch was Bradley.
He looked different. The slicked-back hair was messy, his designer suit replaced by a simple, wrinkled cotton shirt. He looked smaller, thinner, and utterly defeated. For the first time in his life, he wasn't looking at a screen. He was looking straight into my eyes.
"Hey, Dad," he said softly, his voice devoid of its usual venom.
"Bradley," I replied neutrally, keeping my hand on the edge of the door. "What are you doing here?"
"I... I got a job," he said, swallowing hard. "An entry-level position at a local civil engineering firm down in the harbor. Drafting assistant. Starting at the bottom."
I studied him for a long moment, looking for the spoiled boy who had tossed my life into cardboard boxes. What I found was just a man realizing, too late, what it meant to build something real.
"Good," I said simply. "It’s hard work. Make sure your measurements are accurate."
Bradley nodded slowly, glancing past me into the bright, warm interior of the cabin where Carol sat working by the window. He didn't ask for money. He didn't ask for the trust. He just took a deep breath of the salty ocean air.
May you like
"Mom would have liked what you did with the place," he whispered.
"She designed it," I answered, and for the first time, Bradley didn't have an answer.
