Eric Sent A Correction Before We Rolled The Fleet Out

The settlement meeting happened in a room above Dana's office.

I chose the chair nearest the window. Across the street, someone was breaking ice from a gutter with a wooden handle. Every few minutes, a piece fell out of sight.

Eric brought no smile this time.

Paul had sent the proposed terms ahead. Dana had crossed out language that would have required me to describe our split as a mutual staffing change.

"It wasn't a staffing change," she told him.

That sentence stayed crossed out.

By the end of the meeting, we had an agreement to wind up the partnership under Ruth's supervision.

Eric would return the $6,840 used at his Waterbury location. He would pay me $4,200 toward my legal costs. My $260 cushion expense would be reimbursed through the final business accounts.

I would buy the shared bench gear, Thawline name, and website for $5,000, the price both sides accepted after Ruth's review.

The fleet wasn't part of that purchase. The agreement listed it as my excluded property, just as the opening agreement had.

I checked that paragraph twice.

Eric watched me.

"You got what you wanted," he said.

"I wanted to fit equipment without asking permission to see the calendar."

"You could have talked to me."

I turned to the copy of his first client message.

He looked away before I had to say anything.

There was a correction attached to the settlement. It would go to the same client list as his first email. He would also give it directly to anyone who had asked about my role.

He read it without speaking.

Shahbaz Abbasi Was My Business Partner, Not An Employee Hired To Wax Equipment. The Numbered Adaptive Fleet Belongs To Him. My Earlier Statement Was Incorrect.

It named my new booking contact beneath that.

"Do we need the whole first sentence?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

That was the longest argument left in the room. He signed.

Green Hollow handled its loan separately. Before our settlement closed, Dana received proof that Eric and Lund Access had repaid the $12,000 advance plus $360 in charges from Eric's personal funds. The remaining $66,000 commitment was canceled.

The lender released any claimed interest in my fleet and filed a termination of its financing notice against Thawline.

No lender balance would follow me or the old partnership.

The Waterbury landlord confirmed the proposed shop lease had ended. Eric's opening flyer came down. There would be no second shop built around my equipment.

Ruth did not release the final settlement funds until she had the required payments and releases. Promises had caused enough trouble.

On moving day, Neal unlocked the wide rear doors himself.

"Rent deposit goes back to the partnership account," he told Ruth. "Full $1,500. No deductions."

He turned to me.

"I wish this hadn't happened here."

"I wish it hadn't happened."

He nodded. We didn't pretend the sentences were the same.

Mabel had borrowed a van with a lift. We secured every frame to its own padded point. I counted the outrigger pairs aloud as she checked them off.

"Twelve," she said. "All the little ski poles."

I laughed harder than the joke deserved.

Eric stood by the empty racks. He had signed the inventory release, but his hand still rested on S03's seat.

"Careful with that one," he said. "It's worth a lot."

I waited until he moved his hand.

"I know."

The new room was smaller. It was in a plain building off Route 100, with a level entrance and two parking spaces we could keep clear. The rent was $1,250 a month.

I had chosen it after Mabel brought a student to check the doorway and turning space. A room wasn't accessible because the lease called it accessible.

I put the workbench where the morning light would reach it.

Mabel returned all six $300 deposits after the old rental blocks closed. She sent Ruth the confirmations with the students' private details covered. All $1,800 went back to the families.

"Every penny home," she told me.

Ruth paid the partnership's remaining bills, settled reimbursements, returned prepaid rentals that hadn't gone ahead, and divided the remaining cash under our agreement. Records stayed preserved with the closed accounts. Clients who wanted to follow me could choose to share their fit files.

I didn't inherit a list of people as if they were tools.

On Friday, my restored booking page went live under my sole business. My first open hour stayed empty for seven minutes.

Then the office printer woke behind me.

It printed a booking request from Nora's mother, with one line in the notes: Can He Have Her Original Ski Ready?