“If you sign page two right on the line, we save ninety dollars a month, and that pays for our hotel room at Niagara.”

I took the envelope from him and felt the weight of three thick sheets of paper inside.

“I’ll go over it at the kitchen table,” I said.

“There’s nothing to go over, Penelope,” Bob said, picking his brush up again.

“It’s the same standard bank form we signed seven years ago when we bought the place.”

“I like to read what I’m signing,” I said.

“I’ve got to drop it at the bank before four so the approval clears ahead of our weekend trip,” he said.