Come home for dinner tomorrow night.”

I stood beside the kitchen counter holding the card in my hand.

At the shop by the town square, that fruit basket would have cost sixty dollars at the very least.

Brandon had told his lawyer to draft the corporate surrender papers at eleven o’clock that morning.

Melissa had gone into the flower shop to buy the ribbon and the card at one.

They thought a box of crackers and three sweet lines about the grandchildren would make me forget my son had tried to charge me fifteen hundred dollars a month to live in my own house.