Martha kept both hands on her apron.

“She’s helping me read the lot lines.

Sit down or don’t, but stop banging my counter.”

“You’ve got the whole house spread out like a yard sale.” He picked up the 1998 sheet and held it at arm’s length.

“This is a photocopy of a photocopy.

It means nothing.”

“Then you won’t mind me reading it,” I said.

He set it down and rubbed the back of his neck.