I had one morning's repair work, provided the bench could be made sound without buying another top. Feld named the wage before admitting me. I repeated it so there could be no confusion about charity, then carried my tools inside. At the north window Ruth stood with a measuring tape stretched across the cutting surface. She held it down with her thumb and marked a distance on a scrap of paper. I stopped short enough for my toolbox to knock against my knee.
“I didn't know you were coming,” I said. “I was asked about a position.” She wound the tape without offering more. Esther crossed the aisle carrying pattern paper and asked whether the bench could be shifted after the brace was repaired. I knelt to look underneath. One joint had worked loose; a packing block had been driven under the short leg. Every time somebody leaned across the top, the weight traveled through that block instead of the frame. It needed proper attention.
I unloaded the tools and laid my coat on a chair. My hand had improved, though gripping still hurt. Ruth watched me try the screwdriver, then asked whether I needed someone to hold the brace. I nearly said I could manage. Instead I passed it to her and pointed out where the wood might split. She knelt opposite me. For several minutes we worked without speaking, her fingers keeping the brace square while I eased out the damaged screw and examined the hole.
Feld came over before I had fitted a replacement. He had been calculating what the new position would cost, and he spoke to me although Ruth was nearer. “There's a way to make the accounts easier,” he said. “Some of what she earns could come against what's still owing.” I set the screwdriver on the floor. Ruth released the brace, and it swung loose between us. I caught it before it struck her wrist. The three of us watched it settle against my knee.
“No,” I said. Feld frowned. “I'm not saying she works for nothing.” “Her wages don't pay my debt.” He glanced toward the other benches, embarrassed now that the proposal could be heard. I knew that embarrassment. I had used a low voice myself, as though a wrong bargain became decent if no one overheard it. Ruth stood and brushed dust from her skirt. I remained kneeling because I had not yet earned the right to turn this into a declaration made above her.
“You can discuss my wages with me,” she told Feld. “Not with him.” Feld put his pencil behind his ear. He asked her to come to the desk. She went, leaving me with the disconnected brace. I waited until they had finished before touching another tool. I could hear figures, but not all of them, and deliberately moved farther under the bench. Their agreement was not mine to inspect. When Ruth returned, she said she wanted the top nearer the light and the passage kept clear.
The bench was heavier than I remembered. We removed the loose shelf, and Esther came to help with the far end. I began directing the lift, then saw Ruth standing at the corner she had measured. I stopped talking. She placed each of us where she wanted us and counted. We raised the frame only an inch, shuffled, set it down, and changed our grips. At the second lift my hand failed. I said so before I dropped my end, and we lowered it together.
A younger cutter took that corner. I cleared the old packing blocks and guided the legs past a broken floorboard. Ruth checked the aisle with a bundle in her arms, actually walking the route rather than judging it empty. She asked for another two inches toward the window. We moved it again. When she laid her tape along the top, the north light reached the full working width. I had spent years claiming that place by arriving first. She had made it fit the work.
At Feld's desk I asked him to state the remaining balance. He did, and I offered a weekly amount from whatever wages I could earn. It would take longer than either of us liked. He wanted a larger payment after good weeks; I agreed only if I first kept enough for my room and food. We settled on that without bringing Ruth back. Nothing we wrote concerned anyone outside our private accounts. Then I returned to the bench and fitted the brace while the afternoon work gathered around me.
Ruth pressed both hands on the repaired corner. It held. She asked me to smooth a rough edge where cloth might catch, and I stayed to finish it. At closing, Feld handed her a key. She put it in her own purse before helping me gather the shavings. I carried my box to the stairs, waiting while she checked the window. She locked the shop herself. When I offered to carry her tools, she said they were staying at her bench. I took my own box home.