The following morning, he called Margaret.
She answered between meetings.
"Dad? Is everything all right?"
"I need to ask you something."
"Of course."
"When was the last time you walked into one of our dealerships without anybody knowing who you were?"
Margaret hesitated.
"What do you mean?"
"When was the last time you experienced what an ordinary customer experiences?"
Another pause followed.
"I visit the stores regularly."
"With a schedule?"
"Usually."
"And a manager waiting at the front door?"
She said nothing.
Samuel looked toward the photograph on his desk.
"I want to see the flagship showroom."
"You're welcome anytime."
"No announcement. No special welcome. I want to walk in the way a customer walks in."
Margaret recognized his tone.
It was the same tone he used when he had already made a decision.
"Dad, what happened?"
He told her about the letter.
She listened carefully.
When he finished, she asked him to send a copy.
"I'll investigate."
"I believe you will."
"Then why do you need to visit?"
Samuel took a moment before answering.
"Because a manager can show you clean windows and perfect sales reports. Neither one tells you whether the person behind the desk has a decent heart."
Margaret was silent.
Finally, she said, "What do you want me to do?"
"Nothing, at first. I'll come in on Friday morning. I'll call you after I've seen enough."
She agreed, though reluctantly.
Samuel hung up and walked into his bedroom.
On the back of a chair lay Eleanor's favorite brown work jacket.
She had bought it for him at a department store many years earlier, after he complained that every new winter coat cost too much.
The collar was worn.
One of the buttons had been replaced with a slightly different color.
Samuel put it on.
Then he went outside to inspect his old pickup truck.
It was a faded blue Ford that had belonged to his brother.
Margaret had tried to replace it several times.
Samuel always refused.
The truck started on the second turn of the key.
He smiled.
"Good enough."
Friday morning arrived cold and clear.
Samuel drove toward the dealership shortly after nine.
Traffic moved slowly through the city, giving him plenty of time to think.
He remembered what the property had looked like when he first purchased it.
There had been an abandoned warehouse, a cracked concrete lot, and a rusted chain-link fence.
Eleanor had stood beside him and imagined something beautiful.
"Big windows," she had said. "People should be able to see inside before they decide whether they want to come in."
Samuel had joked that large windows would be expensive to clean.
She had smiled.
"Then hire someone who needs a job."
The dealership was impressive now.
A broad glass facade rose above a landscaped entrance.
Rows of immaculate vehicles filled the front lot.
An enormous sign displayed the company name in polished silver letters.
BENNETT PREMIER MOTORS.
Samuel parked his pickup near the far end of the customer lot.
Two luxury cars occupied the spaces closest to the main doors.
He climbed out slowly, adjusted his jacket, and took a moment to stretch his stiff back.
A young employee passing nearby glanced at the pickup.
"Service department's around back," the employee said.
Samuel nodded.
"Thank you. I'm actually looking at the showroom."
The employee gave him a puzzled look but continued walking.
Samuel entered through the revolving glass doors.
Warm air surrounded him.
The room smelled faintly of leather, coffee, and expensive cleaning products.
Soft instrumental music drifted from hidden speakers.
He recognized the central display area, though much had changed since his last visit.
The old service counter had disappeared.
The walls carried enormous digital advertisements.
There were private consultation rooms behind tinted glass.
Everything looked modern.
Everything looked expensive.
Samuel approached the black SUV in the center of the room.
He examined the vehicle carefully.
Its spacious rear cabin interested him.
He had recently begun volunteering with a charitable transportation program that helped older residents reach medical appointments.
Several volunteers used their personal vehicles, and one organization needed a larger SUV that could carry equipment and passengers comfortably.
Samuel was considering donating a suitable vehicle.
He wanted something reliable, accessible, and easy for an older driver to operate.
A salesperson behind a nearby desk noticed him.
His name was Tyler Grant.