“So what else did you do?” He addressed Sue. “Did you go over that math homework in class?”

“Yes. And a man from the bank came and talked about saving money.”

The bank.

Brad felt cold.

“Really?” he said, keeping his voice calm and composed.

“Yes! And he used me as an example!”

His interior alarm went off. “An example?”

“Uh huh. He said if I kept putting pennies and nickels in my piggy bank, like I have been, I could bring it to the bank when it was full, and they’d keep my money there, and I could take it out whenever I wanted or even put more in!”

“How did he know you had a piggy bank?”

“He remembered me from when Shannon’s mom took me over there and got it for me.”

“He remembered you?”

“Yeah!”

Brad didn’t like that, and he was about to warn both girls that he wanted them to stay as far away from the bank or anyone associated with the bank as possible, when Jillian suddenly said, “Macaroni and cheese!”

He frowned, confused. “Macaroni and cheese?”

“For dinner. You asked us what we wanted for dinner. Macaroni and cheese! Mommy made extra last time and put it in the freezer.”

“Yeah!” Sue seconded. “And then Mommy’ll have to make some more because it’s all gone!”

“Mac-a-roe-nee!” they chanted in unison. “Mac-a-roe-nee! Mac-a-roe-nee! And cheese!”

“Okay,” he agreed. “Macaroni and cheese it is.”

They cheered.

“When you call Mommy, tell her we’re all out,” Jillian said.

“I will,” he promised, and, turning onto their street, decided to talk to them about the bank some other time.

2

Coy was eating breakfast when someone rang the bell and then knocked at his front door. Leaving the spoon in his bowl of Cheerios, he went out to see who it was. He couldn’t think of anyone who would be dropping by to see him this early. The only possibility he could come up with was Florine, and after their previous encounter, the last thing he wanted was her turning up and making a scene in front of neighbors who might be leaving for work.

The knock came again, and he opened the door to see a kid standing on his porch.

The boy was wearing a dirty t-shirt with no sweater or jacket, though the weather was chilly. His hair was short and spiky, and there was a bratty look on his face. In his hand, he held an old-fashioned receipt book. “You owe me twenty dollars,” he said.

Coy blinked. “What?”

“I’m your paperboy. I’m here to collect.”

“I don’t subscribe to the newspaper,” Coy told him. “I just read a copy at work.”

“I deliver it to you.”

“I’ve never seen it.”

“You still owe me twenty bucks.”

“Look,” Coy said, “I’ll call the newspaper office and get this straightened out.”

“You’ll pay me the money you owe me.”