“That’ll give you a hundred and twenty dollars plus tips by Sunday morning.”

“Thank you, Patty,” I said.

“You make sure Nate checks those rafters before he runs new wire,” Patty said, closing her book.

“That old roof leaked back in ninety-six.”

At a quarter to seven, I drove back to Ron and Judy’s house to pick up Nate.

The porch light was on, throwing a yellow square across the gravel drive.

Judy was standing by the screen door holding a small package wrapped in blue store paper.

“Nate is just washing his hands down in the basement,” Judy said, stepping onto the top porch step as I walked up.