“Things the two of us need to settle without outside voices.”

My mother picked up her teacup and set it back on the saucer with a small porcelain clink.

“I’ll come by at five to bring Jeremy his clean laundry, Zane.”

“There’s no need, Ruth,” he said.

He opened the front door and held it firmly with his shoulder.

“We’ll have everything we need.”

Three hours later I carried my canvas bag up the front steps on Elm Street while the autumn sun hung right over the roofline.

The master bedroom smelled of lemon furniture oil when I put my bag down on the cedar chest at the foot of the bed.