Chapter 1

Drew's POV

I had worked at this factory for 40 years, working my way up from an entry-level position on the production line to a production supervisor and eventually being rehired after retirement.

Whenever I had free time, I'd work a small vegetable patch on unused land around the factory, and whenever a machine broke down, I was the one who could get it fired back up.

My coworkers joked that I was the "anchor" keeping the whole place steady.

"As long as Drew's around, we don't need to worry about a thing."

Eventually, that turned into, "With Drew around, even the most complicated machine is just like a kid's toy!"

The owner paid me about 2,000 dollars a month just to be that "anchor".

Pamela Thompson, however, didn't see it that way.

She stood there in a chic designer dress, a luxury handbag slung over her arm, giving me a sideways glance. "I have no idea what my dad's thinking, keeping such an old guy hanging around the factory. Anyone who sees him is going to think we're running a nursing home!

"Billy, fire him!"

Billy Coulthard from HR looked deeply conflicted. "But…"

"But what? I call the shots around here!"

Seeing how uncomfortable Billy looked, I just smiled calmly. "No problem. But if you're firing me, you'll have to pay me severance."

"Give me a break. You're already collecting a pension, aren't you? What severance could you possibly be entitled to? Do you have a special contract? If not, get lost!"

I gave it some thought, and she was right. I didn't have one.

When I stayed on after retirement, I'd only signed a standard contract without any special clauses. In other words, I really wasn't entitled to any compensation if she fired me.

"Nothing more to say? In that case, get out!" Pamela said as she rolled her eyes and strutted off.

I sighed quietly as I watched the vegetables I'd planted being dug up, then went to load up my bicycle. Then, I gathered all the technical notes and records I'd compiled over the years and asked Billy for a handover checklist.

When Pamela caught sight of it, she sneered. "Come on, Drew. What on earth are you handing off? Your gardening tips?"

For the first time, I addressed her sarcasm directly, saying, "It's the machinery maintenance notes."

"Don't need them! We've replaced all the machinery in the factory. Your prehistoric notes won't be useful anymore. Now, grab your bicycle and leave. Right now."

Billy chimed in nervously, "Ms. Thompson, Drew still has some odds and ends to hand over. He also handles part of the logistics work."

Pamela flashed a look of utter disdain and snorted. "Make it fast!"

Once she was gone, Billy sighed. "This is the third batch this month. She's already pushed out several veteran workers."

I watched Pamela walk away before calmly gathering up my vegetable seeds and patting Billy on the shoulder.

"Pay attention. I'm only going over this handover checklist once. If you miss something, it won't be my business anymore."

Billy quickly pulled himself together and went through and organized the detailed lists I'd printed out.

Still, 40 years was a long time. Although I didn't have a big day-to-day workload, there were still thousands of small parts in the warehouse, and I had my own system when it came to them.

Now that all of it was being handed over to Billy, it was clearly too much for him to handle, so he went to Pamela to ask for extra help.

But the moment she heard this, she flew into a rage. "You need more manpower? He's just one old man. How much work could he possibly be doing? You're just being lazy!"

"But Ms. Thompson, it's true. There are more than 3,000 parts in the warehouse, and only Drew knows where everything is. And when the machines break down, he's the only one who knows how to fix them.

"If we fire Drew, we won't even be able to function in that warehouse," he continued, standing up for me.

A flash of contempt crossed Pamela's face. "Enough. Keep talking, and you can walk out the door right behind him. I'll give Drew one week to complete the handoff. Then, he's gone."

She was backing off temporarily, but it wasn't a compromise. She just wanted me to finish the handover properly before throwing me out.

I stayed completely unbothered. Once I had all the files organized, I clocked out at mealtime, loaded my vegetables into my bicycle basket, and gave whatever I couldn't take with me to the workers.