At Least You’re Poor
Chapter 5 — Foundations
Later that week, Matthew brought them to the construction site for Henry’s sixty-third birthday. The crew had set up folding tables on the unfinished twelfth floor.
Someone brought barbecue; someone else brought a grocery-store cake with Henry’s name misspelled. Rebecca stood near the safety rail, looking over the river.
The workers treated her with a simple friendliness that made no demands. They didn’t care which clubs she belonged to or whether her family name had lost value.
Henry joined her with a paper cup of sweet tea. “You’re changing,” he said.
“Is it that obvious?”
“You wore work boots today.”