The mortgage remained.
Property taxes.
Car repair.
A broken furnace in January.
The estimate made her sit at the kitchen table staring.
$6,200.
She had savings.
Using them would leave almost nothing.
That afternoon Russell called.
“The bike needs an insurance valuation.”
Anna barely listened.
“How much is it worth?”
“Depends.”
“Roughly.”
“Forty-five.”
Silence.
“Hundred?”
“Yes.”
Anna stared at the furnace estimate.
Russell heard the change.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Anna.”
They had progressed to first names months earlier.
She hated that he could hear worry.
“How much could it sell for quickly?”
Russell went silent.
“Why?”
“I asked a question.”
“Thirty-five, maybe forty.”
Anna closed her eyes.
“That could pay a lot.”
“Yes.”
“Caleb said sell it if we need the money.”
Russell did not answer.
“He wrote that.”
“I know.”
“Then why do you sound angry?”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Russell exhaled.
“The bike isn’t mine.”
“You legally own it.”
“Not in the ways that matter.”
Anna looked toward the furnace estimate.
“The furnace is failing.”
Russell became quiet.
“How bad?”
“Heat exchanger.”
“Replacement.”
“Six thousand.”
“I can lend—”
“No.”
He stopped immediately.
Good.
Anna continued.
“I’m not asking you for money.”
“I’m deciding whether keeping forty thousand dollars in the shape of a motorcycle makes sense.”
Russell looked across his shop at the covered Harley.
Caleb’s line returned.
Metal is not memory.
“Then sell it.”
Anna had expected resistance.
The immediate answer hurt differently.
“You mean that?”
“Yes.”
“What about Owen?”
“We explain.”
“He’ll hate me.”
“Probably.”
“Helpful.”
“He’s eight.”
“He hates people because cereal runs out.”
Anna almost smiled.
Russell continued:
“Caleb put it in writing.”
“Family before machine.”
“If you need the money, sell it.”
Anna looked toward the furnace paperwork.
She whispered:
“I don’t know if I can.”
“That’s a different question.”
Russell arranged an appraisal.
A collector offered forty-two thousand.
Cash purchase.
No nonsense.
Anna had forty-eight hours.
She told Owen at dinner.
His fork stopped.
“No.”
Anna closed her eyes.
“Owen.”
“No.”
“We need a furnace.”
“Get another furnace.”
“That’s what the money would do.”
“Use other money.”
“We don’t have other money.”
“Bear has money.”
Anna’s eyes hardened.
“We do not ask Bear.”
“He would.”
“That’s not the point.”
Owen pushed away from the table.
“Dad left it for me.”
“Dad also wrote that we should sell it if we needed to.”
“He didn’t mean it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Owen.”
“He wanted me to have it.”
Anna’s voice rose.
“He wanted you warm too!”