I thought of it as the place where he got to be exactly what he was. The morning after the equipment yard, Marcus was on the Henderson's porch by 7:15. The Henderson House was one of the oldest on Milbrook Street, a wide white two-story with a sagging wraparound porch that had been losing planks the way an old man loses teeth one at a time and quietly. Doris Henderson was 81 years old and had lived in that house for 54 years, and she had strong opinions about what color the new board should be painted and weaker opinions about what she was willing to spend. Marcus had worked that out with her three weeks ago.
He liked Doris. She was a straight talker. She kept good coffee. And she had a habit of coming out onto the porch while he worked and telling him things about Cedar Falls history that weren't in any book. He'd been working for about 2 hours measuring, cutting, setting boards when he heard a vehicle slow down on the road behind him.
He didn't look up immediately. He heard the door. He heard footsteps on the path. Mr. Williams. Marcus set down his measuring tape and turned.
A man in a dark suit stood at the edge of the driveway. 40something clean shaven, the kind of posture that said he spent a lot of time around people who expected him to have good posture. He was holding a small envelope. Marcus had never seen him before. "Can I help you?" Marcus said.
"My name is Daniel Reeves. I'm the personal assistant to Henry Caldwell." He paused as if the name was supposed to produce a reaction. When it didn't, something shifted in his expression. Not quite surprise, but close. You helped Mr. Caldwell yesterday at the Harland Equipment Yard.
Marcus nodded slowly. The old man with the crates. Yes, sir. Daniel stepped forward and offered the envelope. Mr. Caldwell would like to extend an invitation for you to join him and his daughter for dinner tonight at his home.
A car will be provided. Marcus didn't take the envelope immediately. He looked at Daniel the way he looked at structural reports, methodically checking for the thing that didn't add up. His daughter, Marcus said, "Yes, sir." "Why?" Daniel blinked. "I'm sorry.
Why does he want me to come to dinner? I helped him load a truck. That's not usually a dinner invitation kind of thing." Daniel considered his words carefully. Mr. Caldwell said, and I'm quoting, "I want to break bread with a man who still knows what that means." He paused. He didn't explain further.
He rarely does. Marcus looked down at the porch planks he'd been laying back at Daniel. Back at the envelope. I've got a daughter, Marcus said. Yes, sir.