The heavy oak front door on Elm Street swung open before I could reach for the brass bell.

Caroline stood in the narrow entry, holding a damp dish towel by one corner.

My mother appeared right behind her in the shadow of the hallway, tugging at the collar of her gray cardigan twice in quick, jerky motions.

“If you came to hand over the overdue nine hundred forty dollars, just leave the check on the hall table,” my mother said.

I held out the thick white envelope stamped with the dark blue seal of the Oak Ridge School District’s administrative board.