“I did it for the mailman.”

The box held a seed catalog, two bills, and a Christmas card addressed to The Whole Gang, which I opened and set on the bench inside.

It was from my cousin in Rochester, and it said what it says every year.

Then a small envelope from the bank with Lucas’s name on it.

“Six years married and his statements still come to this address,” Helen said.

“Put it on the pile.” I took the shovel off its hook and scraped the crust off the bottom step.