“It was meant for Friday’s lumber invoice,” I said.

“You keep all your old property papers and shop records locked in that metal box under your workbench anyhow,” she said.

“You can pay it back from your next job.”

“You aren’t taking anything else out of this house,” I said.

Vanessa snatched her leather coat off the bed and flung it over her shoulder.

“Rob’s taking me to Chicago today,” she said.

“You can explain it to the kids when they get home from school.”