Nobody looks at what you drive.”

I stared into my mug of tea, watching the dark liquid settle against the white ceramic.

“Is Arthur going to give me equity from Chelsea’s car?” I asked.

“Don’t be difficult, Iris,” Eleanor said softly.

“Your sister needs this trade-in to clear her dealer balance by Friday afternoon.”

“I’m keeping my car,” I said.

At half past three, I carried my black leather work folder out to Monica’s front porch.

The winter sun in Sacramento was dry and bright, burning off the last of the valley haze over the driveway.