“Not today,” I said.

“We can set up money market certificates or specialized investment portfolios,” Brenda said.

“I need to buy gas,” I said.

She looked down at my faded flannel shirt.

The right sleeve had a frayed hole near the wrist where an old barn nail had caught the fabric five years ago.

“Will that be all today?” Brenda asked.

“That’s all,” I said.

I walked out to the asphalt parking lot and unlocked the driver’s door of my nineteen-year-old Ford pickup.