“I used the bolts you brought from the hardware store on Thursday,” Ethan added.

My father unbuttoned his coat and looked around the warm living room.

Noah reached both arms out toward my father with a cheerful grunt.

My father stepped forward and lifted Noah onto his shoulder, holding him comfortably with one arm.

He walked over to the sliding glass door that opened onto the small back patio.

“You picked a good layout, Camila,” my father said, turning back toward me.

“The morning light will be very good for your bookkeeping work,” he added.