“His business tax license was revoked by two o’clock yesterday,” Brenda said, letting her glasses drop onto the strap around her neck.

“The law took care of the business accounts,” Nathaniel said.

“I have no reason to strip him of his personal work vehicle.”

Brenda took a folded ivory card out of her sweater pocket and laid it flat on the corner of his drafting table.

“Sunday dinner is at five o’clock at my house,” Brenda said.

“I’m making roast pork, egg noodles, and stewed apples.”

Nathaniel stopped sweeping and looked down at the handwriting on the invitation.