Not professionally. He worked at the post office. But he built our first house himself. Took him 4 years. She paused.
I used to sit on the foundation blocks when I was little and watch him work. I thought there was nothing more serious in the world than a man who knew exactly what he was building. Andre looked at her. He sounds like someone worth knowing. Patricia's eyes went soft in a way that happened faster than she could manage.
He was. She recovered. He passed when Clare was seven. She doesn't remember him as well as I wish she did. Clare, who had been listening without appearing to listen, said quietly.
I remember the sawdust smell. Her mother looked at her. Something passed between them that was private enough that Andre felt he was seeing it through a window he hadn't been meant to look through and he shifted his attention briefly to his water glass to give them the moment. James cleared his throat. You said you went out on your own 6 years ago.
Yes, sir. After your wife passed. Yes. James turned his wine glass in his hand, a thinking gesture. Andre could read it now.
The slow rotation that preceded something the man had decided to say. That's a hard time to start a business. It was, Andre said. But I had Maya to feed and I had spent eight years doing the work for someone else. I knew the work.
I just needed to trust that I knew it enough to put my name on it. And do you trust it? Andre met the older man's eyes. I do now. Took about 2 years before I stopped waiting for it to fall apart.
Something shifted in James Morgan's face. Not a smile. Exactly. More like the recognition of a familiar language. How many people do you employ?
Seven full-time. I two part-time on bigger projects. And you manage the client relationships yourself? Every one of them. That was the hardest part to learn that the work is only half the business.