The First Launch After My Name Went Back On The Door

The shop smelled the same when I opened it.

Wet cedar. Old varnish. Cold concrete.

I stood inside with the keys in my hand and waited for some great feeling to arrive.

Instead, I noticed the trash needed taking out.

Dennis met me at eight. The settlement had been submitted to the court, the membership transfer was signed, and my $1,000 payment had gone through. June's consent was in the building file.

I owned the company now. I still owned the equipment separately.

Those were two different lines on Celia's books, and I intended to keep them that way.

Birchline's $24,000 had returned under the settlement. The company paid Everett's documented $1,850 rent advance. His $7,800 contribution toward my costs arrived through his lawyer's trust account.

The remaining $15,600 was due within ten days.

"Do you want to wait for it before starting?" Dennis asked.

"The boats have waited enough."

I put $12,000 of my savings into the company as a recorded owner loan. We sent all three agreed refunds, totaling $10,800, and obtained receipts. Dennis paid the cedar yard's $4,820 balance from the approved budget.

The yard released our held lumber that afternoon.

A truck full of straight cedar felt better than any speech I could have made.

I checked the delivery against the invoice before the driver left. There were forty boards. One had a split end, and he marked the credit on both copies. That was how we began again.

We filed the work plan before Tessa's March 20 deadline. She signed the extension to keep her order alive, with the original June first delivery date.

Then I called two builders I trusted, Leon Pike and Anna Bell. We agreed on hourly rates, weekly limits, and written time sheets. The budget had room for skilled help if we wasted nothing.

Leon studied the broken ribs by the steam box.

"Somebody got impatient."

"We have to replace eleven."

"Then we'll replace eleven."

Anna checked the half-finished seats.

"And these need new lashings. Who cut them this short?"

I didn't answer. She didn't need one.

Everett came by once to turn in the last company card and collect a box of clothes. Dennis had scheduled the visit. Ruth's settlement checklist stayed on the bench between us.

He looked at Leon and Anna, then at me.

"You always liked having an audience."

They were both working. Neither looked up.

"Your box is by the door," I said.

He signed the property receipt.

I checked each returned key against the list, even though June had arranged another lock change for our new access plan. The company card was canceled. The passwords had been reset. The shared sales phone was back on its charger.

Everett left carrying his box in both hands.

There was no room for a final handshake.

That afternoon, his signed correction went to every current customer and supplier. The customer who had seen me outside on the first morning called.

"I believed him," she said.

"You heard one person."

"I should have asked you."

She had chosen a refund. I told her it had been sent, and she thanked me for keeping that promise.

She didn't place another order. Restoring my name didn't mean everyone had to buy something.

Nine days after I got the keys, our first repaired expedition canoe was ready for a test.

Tessa met us at City Beach before the wind rose. The mountains across the lake had come out from under the clouds. Snow still filled shaded cuts along the shore.

We checked the hull in the shop slings before loading it. I set my gray stone on the center mark. The canoe leaned a little to port.

Leon reached for a tool.

"Wait," I said.

The left sling had twisted. We straightened it and tried again. The hull settled level.

Tessa watched me lift the stone away.

"Good thing you checked the thing doing the holding," she said.

At the beach, we loaded secured test weights to match the planned gear. I checked the trim in shallow water, then paddled with Tessa while Anna recorded the results from shore.

The canoe tracked cleanly. No wet seam. No seat movement. No sharp pull when we changed sides.

For twenty minutes, I had nothing to think about except water and wood.

Back on shore, Tessa signed the inspection sheet for hull one. Dennis could now release the next approved material purchase under our work plan.

My name sat beside hers in the builder's box.

As we lifted the canoe toward the trailer, Ruth called.

"The last fifteen thousand six hundred has arrived," she said. "But Everett put 'loan' on the transfer memo. We need that corrected before we close the case."