“She put those in the spring you shipped out,” she said, and climbed into the car.

Arthur carried out two loads, and on the third he stopped in the doorway with the tape gun still in his hand.

“The gambling,” he said.

“I’m going to meetings out in Phoenix.

I don’t expect you to care.”

“Mail me a copy of whatever you signed in August,” I said to my mother.

“I’d have to go find it.”

“Then find it.”