Martha laughed once, short and wet, and pressed her apron to her eyes.

David got up, went to the window, and came back.

“There’s a stack of oak boards in the garage, Dad’s.

I’ve been meaning to build you a bench out of them before the weather turns.”

“Then build it,” Martha said.

“I want it where the red chair sits.”

Rachel looked up.

“The state board said two weeks, Sarah.