The next afternoon, Grandpa called me.
“You’re not going to believe what these people just tried.”
I was at work.
“What happened?”
“They don’t want to pay me.”
I assumed they were disputing one of the change orders.
“How much?”
“Six thousand two hundred.”
I nearly dropped my phone.
“What?”
The homeowners had walked through the finished room again.
Complimented everything.
Taken more pictures.
Then Grant pulled Grandpa aside.
He told him they’d “gone over their renovation budget” and wouldn’t be paying the remaining $6,200.
Grandpa thought he was
