Elaine examined the key. "Let me sit inside it, Danny. Just for a minute."
Daniel opened the driver's door and helped her settle behind the steering wheel. She touched the leather, the smooth dashboard, and the polished controls with the careful wonder of someone who has spent her life making practical things last and rarely allowed herself to indulge in beautiful ones.
"Heated seats," Daniel said, showing her the button. Elaine gasped softly when warmth spread through the seat beneath her.
"Your father would have loved that. He was always worried about my cold hands after the bus ride."
Her fingers rested on the wheel. "Is it difficult to drive?"
"Not at all once you get familiar with it. We'll practice somewhere quiet, and you can take your time. There's no reason to hurry."
Elaine sat in silence for several moments, then looked over at Margaret. "You must be the lawyer I've heard so much about."
Margaret smiled. "Margaret Hayes, ma'am. It's a pleasure finally to meet you."
Elaine patted the passenger seat. "Daniel tells me you keep him from spending money like a fool." Margaret laughed.
"I try. Today he made that more difficult than usual."
"He gets that from his father," Elaine said.
"Frank once spent an entire Saturday helping a stranger change a transmission and came home with six dollars and a sack of tomatoes. I told him the tomatoes better have been good." Daniel laughed despite the pressure in his chest.
"They were terrible," he remembered. "You made sauce anyway."
Elaine turned the key fob over in her hand.
"I want you both to stay for dinner. Your father's favorite pot roast is on the stove. I put in too many carrots, as usual."
Margaret began to object that she had documents to finish, but Elaine waved the concern away.
"Honey, I've worked night shifts in a hospital. I know the difference between an emergency and an email. This is dinner."
Inside the house, the furniture was modest and carefully maintained. Family photographs crowded the mantel, including one of Frank holding a toddler Daniel beside the pickup he had rebuilt twice and refused to replace. Elaine brought out plates with blue flowers along their edges, the same plates that had been on the table when Daniel was a teenager. Margaret settled into a chair by the window and watched mother and son move around the kitchen with the practiced ease of people who knew where every spoon belonged.
After dinner, Elaine opened the cupboard above the refrigerator. It took her a moment to reach the back, and Daniel instinctively stood to help. "I've got it," she said.