In one he described meeting Beverly at a dance hall where the music was so loud he had to write his telephone number on a napkin.

In another he told Paige how, as a boy, he had helped his father repair faulty wiring in a church basement.

Then came a recording I had forgotten.

“Margaret,” he said, his words uneven but determined, “I want you to know something about this house.”

I sat very still.

He talked about the year he had taken a second job to save the down payment.

Beverly had wanted a larger house in the suburbs.