“You told me you paid the balance straight out of your monthly salary from the high school,” Ruth said.

“We share all family expenses,” Mark said, his voice dropping into a quick whisper.

“Can we please go somewhere else and talk?”

Ruth didn’t move toward the car.

She unzipped the side pocket of her leather handbag, took out the navy plastic authorized user card with her name printed under mine, and walked right past her son.

She reached across the open space between us.

The sharp plastic edge of Ruth’s credit card pressed firmly into my dusty hand.