Margaret looked toward Brad. "And when we fail, as people and as a company, the answer is not simply to say sorry and return to the old habits. The answer is to do something different tomorrow. Then do it again the day after that."
She paused and placed one hand on the old folding chair. "Walter used to tell me that every business has two kinds of records. There are the numbers you keep in the ledger, and there are the stories people carry home. The numbers tell you whether you've made a living. The stories tell you what kind of living it was."
For a few moments the showroom was silent. Then Ruth began clapping. Tyler joined her, followed by Hank, Dana, Caleb, and the rest of the room. Margaret looked toward Walter's photograph and felt the familiar ache of missing him, but this time it was accompanied by gratitude that some of the things they had built together were finding new hands to carry them.
After the gathering, people drifted back to their duties. Brad stopped beside the folding chairs and ran one hand along the back of the one Ruth had used. He remembered ordering Tyler to put the same kind of chair away because it did not match the showroom. Now he understood that the chairs were among the most important objects in the building.
Margaret found him there. "You look thoughtful, Brad."
"I was remembering that day," he said. "I keep wishing I could go back and answer differently."
"You can't. Neither can I. I wish I had listened to the complaints sooner."
He studied her. "How did you stay so calm when I was being cruel?"
Margaret considered the question. "I wasn't as calm as I looked. I was hurt, and angry, and frightened by what had happened to something Walter and I loved. But he taught me that anger is most useful when it helps you see clearly. If I'd spent the day shouting at you, I might have missed Tyler, Hank, and the choices they made."
Brad nodded slowly. "I thought kindness was something people could afford after they became successful."
"Sometimes people with the least to spare know its value best. Your mother must have known that. Ruth certainly did."
"I wish Walter had been here," he said.
"He would have offered you coffee and asked why you thought a person needed an expensive coat before they deserved a chair. You might not have enjoyed answering him."
Brad let out a small laugh. "No, ma'am. I don't think I would have."
Margaret smiled. "Then keep answering it with the way you work. That's how we honor people who aren't here to ask the questions anymore."
Later that afternoon, Caleb drove Margaret home. They passed the old bus stop across from the dealership, where a man carrying groceries was sitting beside a woman reading a newspaper. Margaret watched them until the traffic light changed. She had spent a day being directed toward that bench as though it were evidence of failure. Now it looked like what it had always been: an ordinary place where ordinary people waited to get where they needed to go.