“I have been trying to calm you down since yesterday.”

Loretta immediately took up her part.

“She’s always upset about something.

You have been patient enough, son.”

Delia was less careful.

“She’s not going to stop complaining until you let her win.”

I could not tell whether the microphone had caught the last sentence.

I imagined the little sound wave traveling into the phone while all three assumed there was no witness.

I had wanted evidence for so long that the possibility of finally having some almost hurt.

Garrett set the pitcher beside his foot.

He told his mother to fetch another towel and told Delia to move her chair out of the sun.

They discussed the afternoon as if I were an unwanted chore, no more important than a broken fence latch.

At last, they moved away from me.

I heard the porch screen door close and Garrett’s footsteps cross the boards.