Ethan entered before I could explore the question.
“I told your mother about your little payment problem.”
He studied Vanessa silently, then removed the folded page from the drawer. His manner made it clear this was no spontaneous argument; he had considered what he wanted to show us.
“Actually, Mom, there’s something you should see.”
Vanessa’s cheerful face tightened.
“Don’t you dare show her that.”
He placed the document on the table.
“You’re right. Someone else is joining us this afternoon.”
“Who?” Vanessa demanded.
On the doorstep stood a woman holding homemade cookies.
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