David didn’t answer.

He tapped his ring against the steering wheel now, in a slow rhythm.

At two o’clock I found Martha on her back porch, smoothing her linen apron across her lap.

The red plastic patio chair creaked when she leaned forward.

“Brandon called this morning,” Martha said.

“He wants the bank audit moved to next week.”

“Why next week?” I asked.

“He said the family supper would show the auditor how we settle things.” Martha looked toward the oak trees.