I'm sixty-four now, and my knees complain more than they used to after forty years of hauling lumber, but the store's in good shape -- steady regulars, the books finally comfortable instead of tight. Noah, my youngest, spent years wanting nothing to do with the place, and for a while that stung more than I let on. But these days he comes by most weekends just to help out, no hard feelings attached, and lately we've started talking -- half-joking, half-serious -- about him taking on more of the ordering and the books, at his own pace, no pressure. I don't know exactly what the store looks like in twenty years. But for the first time in a long while, I'm not worried about it. We built something here that's still standing, and that counts for a lot.