“It’s a lovely morning to be out on your route.”

“It sure is,” Arthur said, passing me the letter.

“The sun’s going to stick around all afternoon.”

He turned and walked back to his truck, waving once as he pulled away down the street.

I leaned back on the glider and ran my thumb under the paper seal of the envelope.

Inside was the official property tax receipt for twelve hundred dollars, printed on crisp yellow ledger paper.

I held the page up in the morning sun and read the top line twice to make sure.