Thirty-Nine Million Dollars and a Brown Folder on the Kitchen Table

Arthur stared silently at the huge number at the bottom of the closing statement.

Arthur pushed the closing document back toward the middle of the kitchen table, keeping his index finger pressed firmly on the bottom line.

He tapped the printed bank statements right over the thirty-nine-million-dollar figure.

“Thirty-nine million dollars,” Arthur said.

He said the number slowly, as if he were reading a foreign language.

He moved his hand to the bank seal stamped in blue ink next to my signature.

Helen leaned closer to the table, holding her ceramic coffee mug in both hands.