Walter could hear pieces.
“Thursday.”
“Dinner.”
“Foundation.”
Elaine laughed.
Then looked directly toward Walter.
He straightened.
She turned away.
Went back through the doors.
Walter felt something in him change.
He no longer believed she had forgotten him.
At 11:17, a man carrying a courier bag entered.
Brittany directed him to another counter.
At 11:24, a young woman in yoga clothes came in regarding a debit-card problem.
She waited seven minutes.
Walter did not resent her.
That mattered to him.
This was not about demanding to be first in every line.
It was about the fact that his line apparently did not exist.
At 11:32, the front doors opened again.
A man in his early thirties entered in a fitted charcoal suit and expensive-looking shoes.
“Hey, girl.”
Brittany smiled.
“Evan.”
“Is Elaine around?”
“She is.”
“I’m between meetings. I only need five minutes.”
Brittany picked up the phone.
Walter stared.
Two minutes later, Elaine appeared.
“Evan, come back.”
The young man followed.
Walter stood.
This time he did not return quietly to his chair.
“Excuse me.”
Elaine stopped.
Brittany looked annoyed.
Walter continued.
“I’ve been here since nine fifty.”
Elaine gave him a small professional smile.
“Yes, Mr. Jennings. I’m aware.”
“My appointment was at ten.”
“I’m running behind.”
Walter looked at the young man beside her.
“He just arrived.”
Evan glanced uncomfortably toward Elaine.
She straightened.
“His matter will take only a moment.”
“I was told that an hour ago.”
Brittany interrupted.
“Sir, please have a seat.”
Walter looked at her.
“I’m speaking with Ms. Stratton.”
Brittany’s mouth tightened.
Elaine said:
“Mr. Jennings, I will meet with you when I’m available.”
“You made yourself available to him.”
The young man shifted.
“I can wait.”
Elaine shook her head.
“No, Evan. Come back.”
Then she looked at Walter.
“Please be patient.”
Walter’s voice remained calm.
“I have been.”
Something about that unsettled Elaine.
For half a second.
Then the managerial mask returned.
“We’ll be with you shortly.”
The frosted doors closed.
Walter stood in the lobby with his hat in his hand.
He felt every eye that pretended not to be watching.
He sat again.
The briefcase felt heavier now.
Inside were three years of tax returns.
Cash-flow statements.
A property appraisal.
A detailed project estimate from a Knoxville agricultural construction company.
Letters from his veterinarian and insurer.
Documents Walter had spent several evenings organizing at his kitchen table.
Margaret had always handled paperwork better.
He could still hear her telling him:
“Put things in order before you go asking anyone else to understand them.”
He had.
Every document was labeled.
Every figure could be explained.
Every question Elaine might ask had an answer.
None of it mattered while it remained inside a cracked leather briefcase nobody wanted opened.
At 11:47, Evan left.
He avoided Walter’s eyes.
Elaine did not come out.
At eleven fifty-eight, Walter stood again.
Walked to Brittany.
“Ma’am.”
She exhaled.
“Yes?”