My frayed sleeve snagged a little on a loose brad nail beside the light switch.

“Dad, come sit down,” Lily called, waving at the big armchair by the radiator.

“Mark’s going to let me open the big box now.”

“The big box is heavy,” Mark said.

“You’ll need both hands.”

Outside, the autumn wind kicked up, shoving dry oak leaves across the gravel driveway with a loud scraping noise.

Through the sheer front curtain, two yellow headlights swept across the dark lawn and turned the green streamers on the ceiling bright yellow for three seconds.

A long, dark luxury car pulled up to the curb right at the end of the concrete walk, its engine idling with a smooth, heavy purr that sounded all wrong for our street.