Chapter 9: Envelopes

Colin came back from town at half past ten with a bag of charcoal and two bags of ice.

He kissed my hair in the kitchen and said the ATM had been out of order, so he'd had to drive to the next one.

I said nothing.

At one o'clock I went upstairs for my sunhat and found our bedroom door pulled almost shut.

Through the gap I saw him at the dresser with his back to me.

A stack of white envelopes lay beside his elbow, and he was counting twenties into them from a thick fold of bills.

He wrote on each envelope with the hotel pen, slowly, in his best handwriting.

Mom. Dad. Brooke. The girls.

There was a fifth one already sealed, and I could read the name on it from the doorway.

Jenna's folks.

I pushed the door open, and he spun around with the bills still in his hand.

"Babe! You're not supposed to see this. It's a surprise."

"That's four thousand dollars."

His thumb went to his nose and stopped halfway, and he put the hand behind his back.

"It's for the holiday. A little something for everybody, from me."

"From you."

"From the family, I mean. Part of the severance."

"You told me the severance was gone, paying things down."

"Most of it is."

"Colin, I watched the alert come in. That came out of the joint account, and the joint account is my paycheck."

"I'll put it back Monday." He smiled, and it was a good smile, tired and boyish. "Trust me on this. Tomorrow I'll make it right, like I promised."

I looked at the envelope with my parents' names on it.

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