Carl reached into the truck bed, picked up a worn iron wrench, and set it on the side tool rack with a sharp metal clink.

“You sat at our kitchen table last night and made me go over forty-two-dollar grocery receipts line by line,” I said.

“You asked me why I bought two jars of peanut butter instead of waiting for coupons.”

Mark looked toward the farmhouse porch steps, where the shadow of the overhang stretched long across the yellow gravel.

“That was about keeping daily budget discipline,” Mark said, his voice tightening.

“Every household has to keep discipline.”