Do you want the receipt in the envelope?”

“Please,” David said.

“My mother keeps every one of them in the blue binder now.”

She pushed the receipt out under the drawer and glanced at the referee’s name typed along the bottom.

“I’ve seen this name before,” she said.

“He sent a schedule through the commercial desk last month with a note that it was court-supervised.”

“It is,” I said.

“Good.