It was eleven thousand dollars more a year.

Eleven thousand dollars is a number. It is also braces, and a used car with fewer than a hundred thousand miles on it, and a savings account that exists.

I told my mother that night. She put both hands flat on the kitchen table like she was steadying it.

“Don’t tell Nolan yet,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want him to be disappointed if it doesn’t happen.”