And so he knew things.

He knew that I lived on Social Security and a small pension, in the house my late husband had left me.

He knew that I had drawn money out of my own retirement, more than I could really spare, to help my son Trent when his accounting practice was failing.

He knew I had been quietly paying down my daughter Bianca’s credit-card debt for two years.

He knew I had given my younger son Wade the money for his car.