“Mom used to laugh louder.”
He looked toward the kitchen window.
“I'd like to hear that someday.”
Maisie considered him.
“Don't make it a job for her.”
Arthur met her eyes.
“I won't.”
The bell rang cleanly when they put it back together.
Maisie rang it six times, then once more because the seventh seemed necessary. Arthur packed the tools. On the frame near the rear wheel, beneath the paint, he noticed a small dent that had been filled rather than fully repaired.
“We can keep an eye on that,” he said. “No need to do everything today.”
Maisie nodded, pleased by a future task that did not involve selling anything.
Inside, Grace had set the table with mismatched plates. Nora sat in the chair nearest the kitchen so she would not have to carry things far. June arrived with a salad nobody had requested and a story about a man who returned a library book thirty-one years late with a note blaming a renovation.
“Thirty-one years?” Maisie said.
“Some renovations are complicated.”
Arthur smiled, then saw Nora looking at him and understood the number had landed in the room differently for everyone.
June noticed too.
“Fortunately,” she added, “the book was about patience.”
The laugh came unevenly but came.
They were halfway through soup when a car stopped outside.
Arthur saw it through the window and put down his spoon.
Nora noticed.
“Who is it?”
“My brother.”
“You invited him?”
“No.”
The knock came before anyone could decide what to do.
Grace rose, then Nora lifted a hand.
“I'll get it.”
She walked slowly to the door and opened it only far enough to see the man on the porch.
Colin Whitcomb wore a navy suit without a tie. He was older than Arthur by a few years and looked as if he had spent those years learning not to spill anything on himself. He carried a slim leather case and an expression meant to reassure people who had not asked for reassurance.
“Nora Parker?”
“Yes.”
“Colin Whitcomb. Arthur's brother. I'm sorry to arrive without calling.”
“Then why did you?”
He blinked.
From behind her, Maisie made a small sound that might have been admiration.
Colin recovered.
“I was in town. I hoped we could speak privately.”
“We're eating.”
“I won't take much time.”
Arthur came into the hall.
“Colin.”
His brother's shoulders lowered slightly, relieved to have reached someone he knew how to address.
“Arthur, we need to discuss a few things.”
“Then call me tomorrow.”
“I drove three hours.”
“That was your decision.”
Nora looked between them.
For one moment, the house seemed to contain two kinds of money: Arthur's awkward effort not to make help into ownership, and Colin's assumption that effort spent entitled him to entry.
She stepped back.
“Ten minutes,” she said. “In the living room. June stays.”
Colin glanced at June as if trying to identify her importance.
She smiled pleasantly.
“Retired librarian,” she said. “We hear everything.”
Maisie wanted to remain, but Nora asked Grace to take her to the kitchen. This time, Maisie went without arguing. She could hear enough through the thin wall to know when voices changed.
Colin sat on the edge of the couch and opened the leather case.
“I want to start by saying I'm pleased you've found each other.”
Arthur said nothing.
Nora waited.
“I also think this is a situation that could become painful if handled carelessly.”
“It already is,” Nora said.
“Of course. What I mean is publicly.”
June's expression hardened almost imperceptibly.
Colin placed a document on the coffee table.
“The family foundation has resources that could help. Medical bills, housing stability, education for your daughter. We could arrange a private grant.”
Arthur looked at the page.
“What's attached?”
“Nothing unreasonable.”
Nora reached for it, then stopped.
“My lawyer reads anything before I sign.”
“Certainly.”
Colin sounded approving, as if she had performed an unexpected trick.
Arthur leaned forward.
“What's attached, Colin?”
His brother exhaled.
“An understanding that family matters remain private while we establish the facts. Mother's name is attached to institutions that do valuable work. Employees, patients, scholarship recipients. A scandal could hurt people who had nothing to do with this.”
Nora looked at him steadily.
“So you came to make my groceries responsible for your mother's reputation.”
Colin's face changed.
“That isn't fair.”
“It may not be what you meant. It's what you brought.”
June took the document only after Nora nodded and folded it into an empty envelope.