“Two hundred fifty thousand.

Plus the lake house.

The one with the screened-in porch.”

“Lord.” Helen rubbed her knuckles, both hands at once, the way she does when the weather changes.

“That isn’t a present.

That’s a bull’s-eye.”

“Patricia cornered me at the elevator.”

“Course she did.” Helen hooked a chair out with her foot and pointed at it until I sat down.