“What’s the catch, Julian?” I asked.

“There’s no catch,” Arthur cut in, stepping forward and leaning his heavy hands on the back of the sofa.

“It’s a gift.

Julian is stepping up because he has the money, and because you’re carrying my grandchild.”

“All I ask is that you sign the standard space release form for the side garage,” Julian said, nodding at the legal pad in Arthur’s hands.

“Just a simple formality so my firm can list the dedicated storage footprint on our commercial insurance policy.”