I’ll give him that.
He set them down, wiped his mouth, and smiled the way he had since he was fourteen and the car came home with a dent.
“It’s an investment account, Mama. For you.”
“I set it up after Dad. The money’s safer there.”
“Safer than the bank?”
“It’s earning more.”
“How much more?”
He looked at Gene.
“Did he tell you to ask me that?”
“No,” I said. “Twelve envelopes did.”
I put them on the table between the pot roast and the gravy.
Highlighted.
Rachel was there that night.
Emma and Jack were coloring in the living room, under the recliner’s window.
Rachel looked at the envelopes.
Then at her brother.
“Kyle.”
“Rach, stay out of it.”
“Kyle, what’s KC Holdings?”
He stood up.
“This is exactly what I said would happen. He gets in your head, Mama, and now you’re going through my—”
“They’re not yours.”
