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“She doesn’t need to pay me back.”

Ruth opens another envelope. “Did she ask you to buy it?”

“Tova was sleeping on the floor.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

“She needed a desk.”

“Also not my question.”

I set the mug down. “The desk fits under the window. There’s storage in the bed. She likes it.”

“That’s good.”

“It is good.”

Ruth looks up. “Did Astrid ask?”

“No.”

She nods once, stamps the page in front of her, and reaches for the next envelope.

I wait long enough to get annoyed. “You’ve got more than that.”

“You answered the question.”

“She asked me to marry her. She moved her daughter into my house. I’m supposed to watch them make do with whatever they can carry over in a truck when I can fix it in one phone call?”

“She had movers booked.”

“For today.”

“Yes.”

“I could get it there Saturday.”

“You did.”

I lean back while Ruth squares the papers against the table.

“I told her I’d send the receipt.”

“Then send it.”

“She doesn’t need to worry about the money.”

Ruth looks at me over the top of her glasses, and I hear it as soon as I say it. Not the money. The answer.

I pick up my phone, find the receipt, and forward it to Astrid. Then I open our messages and type, You don’t need to worry

I stop at worry and delete it.

Ruth watches me put the phone down.

“Anything else?” I ask.

“About the furniture? No.”