The red ink showed three hundred and forty dollars left in checking after I moved the last of my savings over Sunday night.

“I paid the insurance,” I said.

“I’m not taking him to small claims court, and I’m not mailing his wife a copy of the bill.”

“You could win in court,” Ben said, leaning his forearms on the counter.

“The original custody agreement spells out shared car expenses for Sadie until she turns eighteen.”

“It would cost me three afternoons off work, forty dollars in filing fees and two hours across a table listening to him sigh,” I said.

“My peace of mind is worth more than eighty-four dollars.”