Years later, my shop was thriving, my sons lived with me, and Laura apologized. She began paying me back fifty dollars a month. One day Rick asked why I had simply said “okay” when Brent refused to pay. I told him, “Because I’d already decided what mattered.”
Rick smiled. “So okay was like a plan.” I looked at the plywood sign above my garage and smiled. Laura once said I was going nowhere. She was wrong. I was exactly where I needed to be—with my sons.
