For the first hour, he seemed amused.
By the second, he appeared worried.
Then Sarah reached the account summary.
She looked up.
“Marcus, how much do you think your customers currently owe you?”
He frowned.
“A few thousand.”
She studied the spreadsheet she'd prepared.
“More than a few.”
His expression changed.
“How much?”
She turned the paper.
“Just over eleven thousand dollars in unpaid invoices, assuming the entries are accurate. Some are recent, but several are old enough that we'll need to verify whether the customers have already paid.”
Marcus stared.
For a moment, he seemed unable to speak.
Then he looked toward Dean.
The older mechanic had returned with a cup of coffee.
“Eleven thousand?”
Dean nearly dropped the cup.
Sarah nodded.
“But that's not money we can assume you'll collect. We need to reconcile the records, contact customers respectfully, and determine what's genuinely outstanding.”
Marcus lowered himself into a chair.
For several seconds, he stared toward the office wall.
Then muttered, “I ought to be embarrassed.”
Sarah looked at him.
“Why?”
He laughed bitterly.
“Because I can rebuild a motorcycle transmission, but apparently I can't send a bill.”
She smiled faintly.
“Those are different skills.”
Marcus looked toward her.
For a moment, he seemed surprised.
Then she continued.
“You wouldn't ask me to rebuild an engine just because I know how to balance a ledger.”
He nodded slowly.
“No.”
“Then don't expect yourself to know everything about accounting just because you own the garage.”
For several seconds, he remained quiet.
Then a small smile appeared beneath his beard.
“You sound like my father.”
Sarah looked surprised.
“Did he keep good books?”
Marcus laughed.
“Better than I do.”
She smiled.
“Then perhaps he was right.”
The afternoon continued.
Ethan worked quietly at the small table near the office window.
Occasionally, he looked toward his mother.
He had never seen her doing this kind of work before.
At home, she was usually cooking, washing clothes, helping with homework, or preparing for another early shift.
Now she sat behind a desk, confidently organizing numbers that made two enormous mechanics look completely confused.
He felt proud.
After a while, he approached.
“Mom?”
Sarah looked up.
“Yes?”
“Are you the boss now?”
Marcus burst out laughing.
Dean nearly spilled his coffee.
Sarah smiled.
“No, sweetheart.”
Ethan looked toward Marcus.
“Then why are they doing everything you tell them?”
Dean laughed harder.
Marcus shook his head.
“That's a fair question.”
Sarah reached toward her son.
“I'm helping them with something I know how to do.”
Ethan considered that.
“Like how Mr. Marcus fixed the car?”
She nodded.
“Exactly.”
The boy looked toward the desk.