Free Looking for Me by Beth Hoffman

trying to gather the courage to broach the subject as respectfully as I could, Elgin dropped the bomb: He was hiring an auction company to sell the contents of Mr. Palmer’s shop and would then put the building up for sale.
    I rose from my work stool and said, “Excuse me, I don’t mean to be forward, but what would it take to buy this business? Albert and I work well together, and I know we could—”
    “I’m sorry,” Elgin said, raising his hand. “I’ll give you both a full month’s wages and any vacation pay you have coming. If you need references, I’ll give you those, too. After the repairs are done, you can go ahead and clear out your personal things.”
    And that was that. Not only had I lost a man I considered to be a wonderful, if cantankerous, friend and teacher, but his passing had obliterated my dream of taking over his shop.
    When Albert and I left that night, I walked with him to his truck and posed a question. “I have an idea. What if you and I pooled our money? We could find a new location and open our own shop. We’d be fifty-fifty partners. Mr. Palmer’s customers would come to us, I know they would.”
    Albert slowly shook his head. “You’re young, Teddi. You got a whole lot of years ahead of you. I started workin’ when I was fourteen. Come November, I’ll be fifty-one. All I want is a decent job that pays my bills so I can go fishin’ on weekends. Me and Reba got ourselves a nice life. I don’t want to mess it up by takin’ on a loan. The money I got saved is stayin’ right where it is—in the bank. And I sure don’t want any tension.”
    “What if I promised to take all the tension for both of us? You do your work like always and I deal with everything else.”
    Albert opened the truck door, climbed in, and rolled down the window. “That wouldn’t be right. I know you got a big dream in your head, and stubborn as you are, you’ll probably make it happen, one way or another. But, Teddi, you and I got different dreams.”
    I glanced down at my shoes. “I understand.”
    Albert closed the door and looked at me. For a moment I thought he’d changed his mind and was considering my idea, but he started the engine and said, “Now, don’t go gettin’ all hangdog. My grandpap used to say, ‘
You can’t see the whole sky from one window
.’ You remember those words, all right? See you tomorrow, Teddi.”

    Within ten days of that conversation, the last repair had been delivered. As Albert swept the workroom floor and I wiped down benches, Elgin walked in and handed us each an envelope. Then he asked us to return our keys before we left. Albert never said a word as he packed up his tools and hauled them out to his truck, but I let loose and cried while wrapping my sable paintbrushes in a towel.
    At four o’clock that afternoon, we walked out of Mr. Palmer’s shop. I blotted my tears on my shirtsleeve and sniffed, “I’m going to miss you so much, Albert.”
    His voice thickened when he said, “Won’t be the same without you flappin’ your jaws all day.”
    Three weeks later the entire contents of Mr. Palmer’s shop were sold at auction. I couldn’t bring myself to go and watch. Neither could Albert. Not long after, the building was sold to an investor from Raleigh.
    It didn’t get any more final than that.

EIGHT

    A lbert took a position at a furniture-repair shop on the outskirts of town. He said the owner ran it like a drive-through and didn’t give a spit about craftsmanship, but the wage was good. Though I tried to find a job working with furniture, nobody had an opening. Well, nobody except Miz Hightree, who owned an antique shop on King Street. She wanted someone to clean her store and rewire lamps for minimum wage. I’d have gnawed on a rock before accepting that job.
    While I kept an eye on the help-wanted ads for something good to come along, I began waitressing tables at the same diner where Mr. Palmer and I had struck a deal ten years before. More than