Doc had no idea Mark was planning to visit when he began work the following evening.
He was sitting on the concrete floor beside the unfinished structure, studying the angle of a proposed passenger support. Virginia had identified several issues that needed further evaluation, and he was trying to understand how the next version should be prepared for review.
His beard was streaked with dust.
His sleeves were rolled above his elbows.
A half-eaten sandwich sat untouched on the workbench.
Nearby, a thick folder contained drawings, consultation records, medical questions, and pages of notes from the engineer.
There were photographs of earlier versions of the frame.
There were lists of unresolved concerns.
There were reminders written in large letters.
ASK BEFORE ASSUMING.
COMFORT IS NOT OPTIONAL.
STOP IF THE ANSWER IS NO.
Doc looked at the last line for a long time.
Then he returned to his notes.
At seven-thirty, someone knocked on the side door.
Doc looked up.
Mark Forrester stood outside.
The biker rose slowly.
"Evening."
Mark stepped inside.
"Rachel told me you were working late."
Doc nodded.
"Usually am."
Mark glanced around.
The rear bay was filled with carefully organized materials, unfinished components, and a low custom frame positioned near the workbench. It was recognizable as the beginning of something unusual, but it was still far from finished.
Mark approached it.
"That's for Ellie?"
"Possibly."
Mark looked at him.
"Possibly?"
"Nothing gets used unless it's appropriate for her."
Mark studied the structure.
Then he looked toward the folder.
"What's all that?"
Doc picked it up.
"Everything we don't know yet."
Mark frowned.
Doc handed it to him.
The father opened the folder.
He expected a few sketches and measurements.
Instead, he found page after page of detailed notes.
There were engineering questions, records of consultations, preliminary design evaluations, and photographs documenting changes made after concerns were identified. A separate section contained questions for Ellie's medical team, with several pages marked as awaiting answers.
Mark turned another page.
Then another.
Finally, he looked at Doc.
"You did all this?"
Doc glanced toward the unfinished machine.
"Not enough yet."
Mark stared at the folder.
"Why?"
Doc didn't answer immediately.
He moved toward the workbench and set down the tool he had been holding.
Then he looked at Mark.
"Because I made your daughter a promise."
Mark shook his head.
"You barely know her."