“I bought lemons and fresh milk instead.”

“Market Street is six blocks out of the way from Fifth Street,” he said.

I held the heavy trunk lid open with my right hand.

“I had a quick errand.”

Julian stepped around the bumper and reached straight into my canvas shoulder bag.

He took out my leather billfold, unzipped the main pocket, and slid my Visa card out of its slot.

“You don’t need your own credit accounts while you’re on medical leave,” Julian said.