Chapter 2 - Caleb Came Through The Side Gate
Caleb showed up forty minutes later.
He did not use the front door.
He came through the side gate carrying a tool bag and wearing the same gray work shirt he'd worn all month.
Sarah saw him through the kitchen window.
“That tells me everything.”
“It tells you he parks in the alley.”
“It tells me he doesn't want to walk up the driveway.”
Fair.
I met him near the garage.
He looked at the lien notice in my hand.
Then stopped.
“You got that.”
“That?”
Caleb closed his eyes.
Sarah came outside behind me.
She didn't shout.
That was worse for him.
“You knew.”
He looked at her.
“I knew Harbor was threatening it.”
“How long?”
“Sarah—”
“How long?”
“Monday.”
Today was Thursday.
I stepped toward him.
“You had four days.”
“I was trying to fix it.”
“With what money?”
He looked away.
I felt my chest tighten.
“Caleb.”
“I don't have it.”
Sarah laughed softly.
I hated that sound because I knew what came after.
“We gave you thirty-four thousand dollars.”
“I know.”
“For this house.”
“I know.”
“Then Harbor says you owe them twenty-six.”
“It isn't all your materials.”
That caught me.
“What?”
Caleb immediately realized he had said too much.
Sarah moved closer.
“What does that mean?”
“The account is messy.”
“Messy is a kitchen drawer. Twenty-six thousand dollars attached to my house is not messy.”
Caleb rubbed both hands over his face.
I asked:
“How much of that is actually ours?”
“I don't know exactly.”
“You're the contractor.”
“Yes.”
“You ordered it.”
“Yes.”
“So know.”
He stared at the driveway.
“Maybe twelve.”
Sarah went completely still.
“Twelve thousand?”
“Maybe thirteen.”
“Then why is the lien twenty-six?”
“Because deliveries got moved.”
I stared.
“Moved where?”
“To other jobs.”
My stomach tightened.
We had ordered extra siding.
Extra shingles.
A little more lumber than expected.
Caleb told me unused materials would be returned for credit.
I remembered watching his crew load some of it onto a trailer two weeks earlier.
I had not asked where it went.
“You used our material somewhere else.”
“I moved unused material.”
“Without crediting us.”
“I was going to.”
Sarah looked at me.
I knew exactly what she was thinking.
You watched him.
I turned back.
“Where did our money go?”
Caleb's jaw tightened.
“Payroll.”
“For this job?”
“Some.”
“For what else?”
He said nothing.
My voice rose.
“Caleb.”
“The Montrose job.”
I stared.
That was a renovation he'd finished before starting ours.
“You used our repair money to pay people from another project.”
“They were three weeks behind.”
“And?”
“And I had guys calling me because their rent was due.”
Sarah said:
“So you used our rent money instead.”
Caleb looked at her.
“I thought I could replace it.”
“With what?”
“The next draw.”
“From where?”
“The Grayson addition.”
I knew that project too.
It had been delayed after the homeowner changed financing.
Caleb had mentioned it casually.
He had not mentioned that our house had become the bridge holding his company together.
I asked:
“How long has your business been this bad?”
He looked at me.
“Couple months.”
“Bull.”
“Daniel.”
“How long?”
His face tightened.
“Since winter.”
It was August.
Sarah walked toward the house.
I called:
“Sarah.”
She turned.
“Do not ask me to calm down.”
“I wasn't.”
“Good.”
She pointed at Caleb.
“You hired him in June.”
I looked at my brother.
His eyes dropped.
Sarah said:
“You knew his business had been failing for six months.”
I knew it was tight.
I knew one customer had paid late.
I knew Caleb had sold a motorcycle in April.
I knew more than I had admitted to myself.
“He gave us the best bid,” I said.
Sarah stared.
“Eleven thousand less than the roofer I wanted.”
“He wasn't doing all the work himself.”
“That was supposedly the point.”
Caleb cut in.
“The work is done.”
Sarah turned.
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
She held up the insurance letter.
“Then why are we still getting canceled?”
“That has nothing to do with me.”
I looked at the date printed on the nonrenewal letter.
August 4.
Today was August 14.
I had driven the final nail ten minutes before opening it.
For the last ten days, Bay State had apparently already known they were dropping us.
I showed Sarah.
She stared at the date.
Then at me.
The roof had been finished August 8.
The fence August 10.
The final siding arrived two days ago.
Sarah said:
“They decided before we finished.”
Caleb looked uncomfortable.
I turned.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“Did Lisa?”
Lisa Grant.
Our insurance agent.
Caleb hesitated.
That was enough.
“What?”
“I talked to her last week.”
Sarah stepped back outside.
“You talked to our insurance agent?”
Caleb immediately said:
“About the roof certification.”
“What did she say?”
He looked at me.
“That renewal was uncertain.”
Sarah's face went blank.
I felt something drop inside me.
“How uncertain?”
May you like
Caleb swallowed.
“She told me not to promise you anything.”
