He cleared his throat over the crackle of his car speaker.

“Chloe wants to know if she can bring her middle school reading list over Saturday.”

“Of course she can,” I said.

“Tell her the porch light will be on.”

He stayed on the line three seconds without a word, the long silence of a man who knew the tables had turned and couldn’t find a script for it.

Then he said good night and hung up.

I got up from the oak bench and carried my blue ceramic mug over to the sink.