Is it a crime to buy my daughter a leather jacket?”

“Where’d you get the money for a rented luxury car and three-hundred-dollar jackets?” I asked.

“I’ve got my own accounts now,” she said, raising her chin.

“I don’t have to check the price on a loaf of bread or beg anybody for gas money anymore.”

“You never had to beg for gas money,” I said.

“You spent every dime on screws and wood glue,” she said, looking around the kitchen at the pale blue walls and the cracked laminate counter.

“Look at this room.