Eleanor capped her pen and slid the offer letter across the hood of her car.

“The signing bonus clears before the bank opens tomorrow,” she said.

“I won’t have you worrying about a Friday deadline.”

I read the number twice.

It was more than the tuition, the mortgage, and the overdue electric bill combined.

“I need to call my ex-wife,” I said.

“Call her from the diner,” Eleanor said.

“You look like a man who hasn’t eaten since breakfast.” She adjusted the collar of her navy coat.