Part 3: The Building by the River

The building owner's daughter, Nina, met us at the river workshop. The brick façade needed repair, and the upper windows had been covered during an earlier renovation. She wanted to turn the building into a community arts space with studios, a small exhibition room, and a workshop for repairing furniture.

Nina explained that she had contacted several firms. She wanted proposals, not a favor based on our mothers' history. She also wanted to know whether the old drawings could be used without creating a dispute about ownership.

Julian and I agreed to inspect the building separately and prepare independent scopes. We would coordinate where the work overlapped, but neither firm would assume it had won the contract. Nina introduced us to her project manager, who recorded questions about the roof, wiring, and access.

The storage cabinet stood in a room at the back. Nina opened it with a key from her father's files. Inside were rolled drawings, sample boards, and a notebook. Some pages bore Helen's name; others bore Teresa's. Nina photographed the contents and asked us not to remove anything until the ownership questions were clarified.

“This is more organized than my mother's explanation,” I said.

Julian examined a drawing without touching it. “Mine skipped the part where there were two cabinets.”

There was a second cabinet across the room. Its lock was damaged, and Nina said she would have a professional open it after checking whether any building records identified the contents. We did not treat a locked cabinet as permission to force it.

After the visit, Julian and I sat on a bench by the river with coffee. He asked whether I wanted to work with his company if Nina selected both of us. I said I would consider it after reviewing the scope, the budget, and the other proposals.

“That sounds almost romantic,” he said.

“Only if you find clear contracts attractive.”

“I do. They prevent my mother from deciding the schedule.”

He told me Teresa had continued running her restoration business after the partnership ended. She had taught him to repair furniture and to document every change to a client's property. Helen had built a successful lighting consultancy before retiring. Both women had made careers after the disagreement, but neither had explained the end of the workshop to their children.

I called my mother that evening. She said the dispute concerned a payment for equipment and an assumption that Teresa had taken clients from her. Teresa believed Helen had agreed to sell the equipment at a different price. They had never completed a written settlement.

“Do you want the drawings back?” I asked.

“I want them handled fairly. I also don't want another argument.”

“Those are not mutually exclusive.”

She sighed. “You sound like your father.”

“He was good at reading contracts.”

The next morning Nina emailed the project schedule. She would ask an attorney to review the ownership of the drawings before making them available to any bidder. The cabinet would be opened with the building manager present and documented. I appreciated the clarity.

Julian sent a message: I found a restaurant with chairs and no tablecloths long enough to hide under.

I replied: Does it serve sandwiches?

He wrote back: Only with a written scope of work.

I agreed to dinner on Friday. This time neither mother had arranged it.