“Do you know what it costs to pull concrete footings and reset thirty panels of tongue-and-groove cedar?” Tyler asked, his eyes narrowing as he stepped down one porch stair.

“We are talking thousands of dollars because of a clerical discrepancy.”

He turned his shoulder slightly, looking back toward his front door as if he had already spent too much time on the conversation.

“I am not looking at your paper, Joan,” Tyler said.

“My contractor is pulling the permits for the next phase today, and we are moving forward.”

He walked back inside his house, the heavy wooden door clicking shut behind him before I could offer another word.