the passenger seat with the engine running.
I opened my door.
Linda wore lipstick and the concerned maternal expression she reserved for neighbors and people she needed something from.
“Honey, I know this has been hard on all of us. But your father and I think it’s best if we handle the estate together as a family.”
“Margaret Caldwell is handling Grandpa’s affairs,” I said.
Linda’s face changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
Then she recovered.
“Margaret retired years ago.”
“She didn’t.”
Linda softened her voice.
“Your