He didn’t knock.

He opened the front door twice as wide as usual and walked right into the front room.

“I brought the almond pastries from the bakery on Third Street,” he said.

He put the box on the edge of the low coffee table beside Ruth’s sewing basket.

Ruth stayed in the kitchen doorway, adjusting her reading glasses on their silver chain with a slow, careful thumb.

“Sarah is staying here today, Zane.”