Her voice was calm and measured, the tone she always used when she was trying to keep her own worries from spilling over into the rest of the house.
“We can handle the linen fee,” I said.
I set her mug down on the worn blue kitchen rug near her chair. The rug was frayed at the edges, the blue fibers faded to a dull gray where we walked the most.
Adele folded her hands tightly in her lap. “We don’t need the extra flower arrangements for the vestibule. We can move the altar pieces after the ceremony to save sixty dollars.”
“We’ll keep the flowers where they are,” I said.
