Poppy said, “I think it suits you.”

Lisa said to John, “Poppy says work has been busy for you?”

“Can’t complain,” John said, shifting his posture. The legs of the slender barstool looked like matchsticks beneath his big bottom. “Couple months ago our company landed a huge student housing development, so we’re locked into full-time work for the next five years.” John worked for a contractor in Wheeling specializing in interior painting and trim. After decades of spotty work and short-term contracts, news of this project had come as a big relief.

Lisa reached across the counter for her purse and withdrew a disposable camera. She handed it to John, draped an arm over Poppy’s shoulders, and said, “Before I forget, grab a picture of us, would you? I want to fill up the film by the time we leave.”

Poppy wormed out from Lisa’s arm. “I don’t want my picture taken. You have to get my consent first, don’t you? In writing? I’ll sue.”

John quickly snapped a picture before Poppy could move outside its frame.

Poppy glared at him, then at Lisa. “I’m unphotogenic to begin with, and put me next to you . . .”

Lisa said, “I’ve always thought you photograph really well, Pop.”

“That’s even worse,” Poppy whined. “That means I’m ugly and delusional. Just fill that film up with pictures of the kids, why don’t you. Leave me out of it.”

John asked Scott about his work.

“Just coming off a great quarter,” Scott said. “Record profitability for the firm. So.”

“You still working for that big law firm?” John asked.

Scott nodded.

“Well,” Lisa interjected, “not exactly.”

Scott’s face darkened.

“It’s a debt collection firm,” Lisa explained. “He’s in the legal department.”

Poppy said, “Po-tay-to, po-tah-to,” attempting to mitigate things. She glanced anxiously at Lisa.

“Exactly.” Scott grinned fixedly and tipped his glass in Poppy’s direction. “That’s what I say.”

Lisa explained to John, “Basically, Scott files lawsuits, small civil claims, against people who owe somebody else money. People whose credit cards were charged off, or people with, you know, outstanding debt to a hospital or a utility company, stuff like that. Lenders sell the bad debt to Scott’s firm, then he goes after the borrowers for that money. Sues them.”

John considered this for a moment. “But if these people couldn’t pay off their credit card or whatever, how are they gonna have money to pay for a lawyer if they’re getting sued?”

Scott’s eyes darted nervously around the room as he said, “Well, usually they don’t show up to court, so we win a default judgment.”

“Gotcha.” John sipped his sangria. He didn’t particularly want to know what happened next in this scenario.

“So then,” Lisa continued, “when the people can’t pay up, Raslowe and Associates garnishees their wages. That’s basically how they make their money, in a nutshell.”

John stared at her. “Is that when they take money right out of your paycheck?”

Lisa nodded. “Scott processes the highest volume of these lawsuits in the company. He bangs out paperwork for, you know, dozens of these cases a day. That many lawsuits in a single day. Can you imagine?”