“Nora, be reasonable,” he said, his tone dropping back into the persuasive, soothing pitch he used when he wanted a quick yes.

“You’re sitting home alone in the kitchen getting worked up over minor numbers.

Unblock the line for seventy-two hours so we can enjoy this trip, and then we’ll sit down like adults.”

“No,” I said.

“Nora—”

I pressed the red button on the screen, ended the call, and set the phone face down next to my coffee cup.

By twelve fifteen, the summer heat hung heavy in the kitchen, drawing the smell of fresh pine cleaner up from the floorboards.

I sat at the wooden table with my bookkeeping binder open to the bank pages, going over the four-dollar fuel charges and forty-two-dollar grocery receipts from the past month.