store.
Through the open doorway, I could still hear Aubrey cheerfully explaining another slide from her presentation.
She sounded as though nothing unusual had happened.
I’d grown up inside that hardware store.
As a child, I stood on an overturned bucket just to reach the key-cutting machine.
When Dad injured his back and needed surgery, I was twenty.
He couldn’t keep working full-time.
Mom came in three mornings each week to handle the bookkeeping.
Everything else became my responsibility.
I ordered inventory, dealt with contractors who paid their accounts monthly, managed the county’s mower-parts orders, repaired equipment, and hired employees.
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