“He’s taking care of us,” she said.

“He fixed that loose wooden step on the porch yesterday afternoon.”

Michael looked past her at Travis.

Travis was standing calmly at the stainless steel sink, washing a breakfast plate in soapy water.

The hostile, looming stance from the library parking lot was nowhere to be seen.

“Thanks for the coffee,” Michael said.

“Have a nice morning,” Travis said over his shoulder.

Michael went out the front door and walked slowly down the concrete driveway.