Chapter 4 The Hardware store stand -0ff - Under a Will

Chapter 4: The Hardware Store Stand-off

The inside of my car smelled like "New Leather" and "Success." At least, it did until Caleb climbed in. Now, it smelled like a cedar forest had exploded in the passenger seat.

He looked ridiculous in the small space. His knees were practically hitting the dashboard, and he was staring at my touchscreen console like it was an alien spacecraft.

"Don't touch anything," I warned, pulling out onto the main road.

"I wasn't going to," he muttered, though he was staring intently at the GPS. "You really need a computer to tell you how to get to the only hardware store in the county?"

"It’s about optimization, Caleb. It finds the route with the least traffic."

He looked out the window at the empty, winding road lined with pine trees. "Traffic? Elena, the only thing we’re going to get stuck behind is a tractor or a very determined moose."

I gripped the steering wheel tighter. I tried to ignore him and focus on the drive. The coastline was beautiful,crashing blue waves and jagged grey rocks but I was too busy calculating the cost of the roof repairs in my head.

"So," Caleb said after a few miles of silence. "When you go back to the city, what’s the first thing you’re going to do? Buy a new pair of shoes that cost more than my truck?"

"I’m going to go back to a job where people respect my expertise," I snapped. "Where I don't have to grind my own coffee or worry about screaming pipes. I have a life there, Caleb. A big one."

"Sounds lonely," he said simply.

"It’s not lonely. It’s productive."

We reached the hardware store, a massive, dusty warehouse called

Miller’s Supplies.

As we walked in, everyone seemed to know him. They waved, they called out his name, and they looked at me like I was a specimen in a jar.

While Caleb was looking at heavy-duty bolts for the sign, I tried to suggest a cheaper, zinc plated option I’d found on my phone.

"Those will rust in a week with the salt air," Caleb said, barely looking at the screen. "We need the stainless steel."

"The stainless steel is triple the price," I argued. "We are fifty thousand dollars in the hole. We need to save everywhere we can."

"You don't save money by doing a job twice, Elena. That’s 'City Logic.' Here, you do it right the first time so it lasts for twenty years."

"I am the one with the law degree and the finance background!" I raised my voice, causing a man in a nearby aisle to drop a box of nails. "I am trying to keep the doors open, and you are acting like we have an unlimited budget for 'craftsmanship'!"

"And I’m the one who actually cares if the sign falls on Mrs. Higgins’ head!" he yelled back. "You’re just looking for a way to patch the holes long enough to dump this place on someone else and run!"

The truth of his words stung more than the volume. My temper, usually kept under a cold, professional seal, finally snapped.

"You know what? I’m done. I’ve had enough of the attitude, the insults, and the constant 'man of the woods' routine. You’re fired, Caleb. Consider your 'stewardship' over. I’ll find a contractor who knows how to follow a budget and a boss."

The entire store went silent. Caleb stared at me, his hazel eyes dark and unreadable. He didn't look angry anymore. He looked almost... disappointed.

"Fired?" he repeated quietly.

"Yes. Fired. Get your things out of the apartment by tonight."

I turned on my heel and marched back to the car, my heart thumping against my ribs. I felt a surge of power. That’s how things worked in my world. You underperform? You're out.

I waited in the driver's seat, expecting him to come out and beg for his job or at least yell some more. Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Finally, I went back inside, but he was gone. He’d walked home.

I drove back to the shop in a rage, rehearsing the legal speech I’d give him when I got there. I grabbed the leather-bound copy of Margaret’s will from the desk and flipped to the section on "Staffing."

My eyes scanned the elegant, loopy script, and my stomach dropped.

"...and should my niece, Elena, attempt to terminate the employment or residency of Caleb Miller before the one year mark, the property shall immediately be forfeited to the State of Maine as a public park, and all remaining trust funds shall be donated to the Feline Sanctuary of Portland."

I sank into the creaky desk chair. I couldn't fire him. I couldn't even kick him out of the apartment. If I did, I lost everything. The shop, the money, and my one chance to fix my professional reputation.

I looked up as the front door creaked open. Caleb walked in, looking tired and covered in dust from his ten mile walk. He didn't say a word. He just picked up his hammer and went back to the Fiction section.

He knew. He’d known the whole time.

I was a high powered lawyer, and I had just been outmaneuvered by a dead woman and a man in a flannel shirt.