Arthur rested both palms flat on the bench.

“That’s Maya’s money.”

“The bank says four transfers went out online.

All from the joint savings.”

He pulled a pencil from behind his ear and wrote the number on a scrap of a lumber receipt.

Maya started fussing in her car seat.

I lifted her out and laid her on the folded floral baby blanket from the diaper bag.

The pattern was small pink roses, faded from too many washings.