Daniel has big expenses right now.”

“What sort of expenses?” I asked.

Linda clinked her coffee cup against its saucer.

“The sort that build a future for all of us, dear.

Now go get two clean cloth napkins from the sideboard.”

I didn’t move toward the sideboard.

I looked at my mother, but she kept her eyes on the cream pitcher between us.

At two that afternoon, I was sitting at the head of the dark walnut table in the Carter dining room on Birch Street.