“And Marcus,” Trent added, “good sale.”
Marcus looked surprised.
“Thanks.”
Trent nodded once and returned inside.
Emily watched him go.
“Do you think he meant it?”
Frank considered the question.
“I think he meant it in that moment.”
“That’s not the same as changing.”
“No.”
“How do you know if someone changes?”
“You stop watching the apology and watch the pattern afterward.”
Emily looked through the showroom glass at Trent greeting an older woman who had just walked in carrying a canvas handbag and wearing gardening shoes. He paused, glanced briefly toward the sales tower, then walked over to her.
They could not hear what he said.
The woman smiled.
Frank said nothing.
Neither did Emily.
One interaction proved nothing.
But it was a beginning.
Diane joined them near the delivery area carrying a small box tied with a blue ribbon.
“What’s that?” Emily asked suspiciously.
“Nothing expensive,” Diane said quickly, looking at Frank. “Before your grandfather lectures me.”
“I was not going to lecture.”
“You were preparing.”
“I was thinking.”
“That is how your lectures begin.”
Emily laughed.
Diane handed her the box.
Inside was a basic roadside emergency kit with a flashlight, reflective triangle, tire gauge, phone charger, first-aid supplies, and a pair of work gloves.
Emily looked genuinely delighted.
“This is actually useful.”
Diane pretended to be offended. “We occasionally manage that.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And this is from me, not the company. I give one to every niece, nephew, and young person I know when they get a first car. My father did it for me.”
Frank relaxed.
“That,” he said, “I approve of.”
“Your approval was not requested.”
“Even better.”
Diane hugged Emily briefly.
Then she shook Frank’s hand.
“I’ll send you the process changes when they’re finalized.”
“Send them through normal channels.”
“I know.”
“And don’t write a special report because I happened to be here.”
“I know.”
“And—”
“Frank.”
He stopped.
“Yes?”
“Go be a grandfather.”
Emily grinned.