Chapter 4 - Drew Wanted to Buy Caleb’s Shares Before Emma Was Born
Two weeks after the funeral, Drew brought paperwork to my house.
I was sitting at the kitchen table with swollen ankles and a blood-pressure cuff my obstetrician had told me to use twice daily.
Drew placed a folder in front of me.
“What is this?”
“Company stuff.”
I almost laughed.
“That narrows it down.”
He smiled.
Then:
“We should probably deal with Caleb’s shares before the baby comes.”
My chest tightened.
“Why?”
“Clean break.”
“From what?”
“The company.”
“Caleb is dead.”
I immediately hated myself for saying it.
Drew looked away.
Then:
“I know.”
He explained that Caleb’s thirty percent interest would pass through his estate according to his will.
Caleb’s will named:
me
as primary beneficiary,
with a trust for any children if I predeceased him.
Straightforward.
Drew wanted Hartman Excavation to redeem Caleb’s interest.
Purchase it from the estate.
Keep ownership:
inside the family company.
That concept was reasonable.
The proposed price was not.
$210,000.
I stared.
“Caleb told me the company was worth several million.”
Drew leaned back.
“Gross company value isn’t equity.”
“I know.”
“Equipment debt.”
“Lines.”
“Tax liabilities.”
“Current jobs.”
“You can’t just look at revenue.”
“I know how business valuation works.”
I actually did.
I worked as a senior financial analyst for a regional healthcare network before maternity leave.
Not construction.
But enough.
“Where is the valuation?”
Drew tapped the folder.
“Accountant estimate.”
Two pages.
No independent appraisal.
No normalized earnings.
No equipment valuation detail.
No backlog analysis.
No treatment of real estate the company owned.
I said:
“I’m getting my own valuation.”
His face changed.
Not anger.
Annoyance.
“Sophie.”
“I’m not signing this.”
“This company was Dad’s.”
“And thirty percent was Caleb’s.”
“You don’t want to own an excavation company.”
“Probably not.”
“Then why drag this out?”
I looked at him.
“Because Emma doesn’t lose hundreds of thousands of dollars because you want paperwork finished before she’s born.”
He stared at my stomach.
Then said:
“Caleb would never have done this to us.”
The sentence worked.
I felt guilty immediately.
Good family pressure rarely begins with:
threats.
It begins with:
memory.
I still refused.
May you like
That was the first time Drew and I became adversaries.
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