Before, I had been the capable one, managed from a distance. Now, they drove to my house with food and a caulking gun. They asked about work and listened to actual answers. They asked before they came. Small things. But I had been living without small things for long enough that I noticed their presence.
## The Financial Picture Six Months Later
Six months after the closing, I did a rough accounting — not a formal one, just a mental inventory of where things stood.
My parents: in the apartment, managing on their combined income. They had used about eight thousand of the forty thousand reserve — the deposit, moving costs, initial apartment setup purchases. Thirty-two thousand remained, which was more than sufficient for the emergencies that reserves are meant for. My father had adjusted to apartment life with more equanimity than my mother, who still occasionally said things like ‘I miss having a yard’ without saying it in a way that expected someone to do something about it.
Adam: the business was in its seventh month. He had four employees now — a part-timer who covered weekend walk-in traffic and a part-timer who helped with the more time-intensive repair jobs. He had started his first loan repayment in February, as promised — a small amount, but a real one, transferred on the first of the month with a text message to my parents that said: ‘First payment. More to come.’ My mother had screenshot it and sent it to me without a word, which was its own communication.