“The shop work gets finished when it gets finished.”

Mark sanded the edge of the bottom shelf in long, even strokes.

“Sarah told me you said no to that bowling league in town last week.”

“I don’t need a bowling league,” I said.

“I’ve got seven kids, a house, and a workshop.”

“You could use a night out,” Mark said gently, his arm going still.

“My nights are fine just as they are,” I said.

“Pass me that little wood rasp.”