“My job now is to get paid.”
He paused.
“I’m getting paid.”
Later that afternoon, Dad returned for the check.
Richard stood near the pool.
Garrett handed Dad an envelope.
Dad counted the money.
$7,800.
Exactly.
“This is correct,” he said.
Richard looked uncomfortable.
Dad didn’t demand an apology.
Instead, he reached into his jacket and handed Richard a laminated card.
“The system should run well for years if it’s maintained properly.”
Richard looked surprised.
“You prepared a maintenance schedule?”
“I prepare one for every job.”
Even after everything that had happened, Dad remained professional.
On the drive home, I stared at him.
“You really gave him a maintenance schedule?”
“Yes.”
“After they tried not to pay you?”
Dad started the truck.
“Being professional doesn’t depend on whether the other person behaves professionally.”
He glanced at me.
“It depends on whether I do.”
The next afternoon, Eleanor called.
Tibor’s son, Martin, had arrived from New Mexico.
He wanted to meet Dad.
We went to Eleanor’s house.
Martin stood when Dad entered.
“You found something my family believed was lost forever.”
Dad nodded.
“And you did the right thing.”
“It wasn’t mine.”
Martin smiled.
The collection had already received a preliminary assessment.
One rare pocket watch, madeYour position in Paris around 1892, was estimated at approximately $40,000.
The entire collection could be worth between $80,000 and $90,000.
Dad barely reacted.
Instead, he explained how carefully he had documented the discovery.
Martin shook his head.
“You preserved the story.”
Dad smiled.
“I kept notes.”
Martin then offered Dad $5,000 as a finder’s fee.
Dad immediately refused.
“That isn’t necessary.”
“It is to me.”
