I signed the check for three thousand one hundred twenty-five dollars and tore it out of the book.

Gemma had it out of my hand before I could fold the flap. “I can mail it on my way to the market,” she said.

“The post office is the other direction.” I adjusted my watch band and set my pen down straight. Gemma smiled at me. “The market has a mailbox, Margaret.

I just wanted to make sure we have exactly the right dates.” “The right dates for what?” “For the deposit to land before the holiday rate locks.” She slid the envelope into her bag.

“You worry too much.” The deposit had gone on my personal Visa on Monday.

This check covered the second half. Twelve thousand five hundred dollars, all told, for the house in Sun Valley.

I had written the names on a sticky note the week before.

Lucas, Gemma, their three kids, Douglas, Beverly, Chloe, Thomas, the baby. Ten. I had not written mine.

Someone had to look after the house, I told myself.