“You were waiting all these years?”

“Not exactly waiting.”

She smiled.

“Ready.”

Then she said something I never forgot.

“Things buried underground don’t disappear. They wait.”

She looked at Dad.

“And sometimes they wait for the right person.”

Dad shook his head.

“I just happened to be repairing the pool.”

“No,” Eleanor said. “You noticed something unusual. Then when you found something valuable, you didn’t keep it.”

“It wasn’t mine.”

Dad said it like there was nothing else to discuss.

Eleanor smiled.

“That seems obvious to you.”

She glanced toward Richard’s house.

“It isn’t obvious to everyone.”

At four that afternoon, Dad returned for his payment.

I went with him.

Garrett handed him an envelope.

Dad opened it.

$7,800.

Exactly what he was owed.

“This is correct.”

Richard stood nearby.

He didn’t apologize personally.

Dad didn’t ask him to.

Instead, Dad reached into his jacket.