He swallowed.
“I told myself he would find the blockage.”
Then he looked toward me.
“I knew that wasn't guaranteed.”
No apology would have been enough.
But I appreciated that he did not insult me with another explanation.
“I’m sorry.”
I nodded once.
That was all I had.
Chapter: Andrea
A month later, Nolan’s wife asked to meet me.
I almost said no.
Claire told me I should.
“Why?”
“Because you keep saying Andrea didn't climb the roof.”
“That doesn't mean I want coffee.”
“No.”
Claire smiled.
“But you're going to think about it for six months if you don't go.”
Again, unfair.
Again, accurate.
Andrea and I met at a diner outside Santa Fe.
She looked exhausted.
The divorce was almost final.
Nolan’s grading company was being liquidated, equipment sold to satisfy creditors, and the storage problem that had begun everything no longer existed because there was barely a business left to store anything for.
Andrea placed a folder on the table.
Inside was a quitclaim document relinquishing any possible claim connected to the fourteen-foot strip.
“You already signed the survey acknowledgment.”
“I know.”
“What’s this?”
“I want it cleaner.”
I looked at her.
She continued.
“If I ever sell the house, I don't want the next owner hearing some story about a disputed boundary.”
That made sense.
I signed nothing because there was nothing for me to sign.
I simply took the copy.
Andrea stared into her coffee.
“He wasn't always like this.”
“I know.”
She looked up.
That surprised her.
I continued.
“That’s what makes it worse.”
She nodded.
“When the business started failing, everything became numbers.”
“Storage costs.”
“Fuel.”
“Equipment payments.”
“Contracts.”
“Then your land.”
She shook her head.
“I kept telling him we could sell two machines.”
“He said that would make him look weak.”
There it was.
Fourteen feet had never saved Nolan’s company.
Even if I had sold it, the barn would only have delayed the collapse.
Nolan had risked prison to solve a problem the land could not solve.
Desperation had narrowed his vision until only one answer remained.
Me.
I asked Andrea:
“Did you know he moved the survey markers?”
She was silent.
Then:
“Yes.”
That hurt.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“I told him to put them back.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
She looked down.
“Because I wanted to stay married.”
I understood more than I wanted to.
People sometimes participate in wrongdoing by doing nothing because action would force them to admit what their life has become.
Andrea wiped one eye.
“I’m sorry.”
“I believe you.”
I stood.