Betty wanted to go out to dinner. This should not have required a financial analysis. “Can we afford to go out tonight?” she asked. Dudley looked up. It was a perfectly reasonable question. They had asked each other versions of it for thirty years. Can we afford the new couch? Can we afford the trip? Do we really need the better grill? Why are paper towels eight dollars? They had spent most of their adult lives paying attention to money. They compared prices, waited for sales

Betty pulled a small notebook from her purse. "What do you want for dinner?" This was how the list usually started. Betty's lists were different from Dudley's. Betty wrote down what they needed. Dudley preferred to know everything they already had. He considered this more reliable. Betty considered it unnecessary. Dudley also had a habit of proofreading Betty's lists for logistical intent. Was the route efficient? Were they buying something they already owned? Had she account

The third floor of the house was trying to kill them. That wasn't technically true, but in July it was accurate enough. The house had been built in 1897, back when insulation was apparently more of a suggestion. The third floor was a remodeled attic with vaulted ceilings, old farmhouse character and enough charm to make Dudley and Betty love sleeping up there. It also got unbelievably hot. Heat rose through the house and collected under the roof as though it had been invited.

Doug called Dudley with a money question, which was an exciting moment for Dudley. He had been training for it his entire life. “Dad, I got a credit card.” Dudley sat up. “What kind?” “I don’t know.” Dudley sat back down. This was going to require some work. “What do you mean you don’t know?” “It’s a credit card.” “I understand the category.” Doug had recently started working while he was in college. He was making his own money, paying for more of his own things and discoveri

Bonnie got the mail. Dudley and Betty were at Ray and Bonnie’s for dinner when Bonnie came in from the kitchen carrying an envelope. She handed it to Ray. “Somebody took out more money.” Ray looked at the envelope. “Who?” “Medicare.” Dudley kept eating. He had learned that not every financial conversation occurring within hearing distance required his participation. “How much?” Ray asked. Bonnie told him. Dudley stopped chewing. Betty noticed. “No.” “I didn’t say anything.” B

Dudley and Betty accidentally watched the news. This was rarely helpful. They hadn’t intended to. The television was on, they were drinking coffee, and one thing led to another until several professionally concerned people were explaining why everything was bad. Inflation was up. Interest rates were rising. Stocks were falling. Consumers were worried, businesses were worried, and economists were worried about how worried everyone was. Betty looked at Dudley. “That doesn’t sou

Barb called Dudley with a financial question. This was exciting. “Dad, what do you think about pet insurance?” Dudley sat up. He had opinions about insurance, cats and, more recently, veterinary medicine. This was an unusually favorable combination. “What happened?” “My roommate moved out.” “Okay.” “And I inherited her cat.” Dudley paused. “How do you inherit a cat from someone who’s still alive?” “They couldn’t take him.” “Ah.” “He’s twenty-three.” Dudley paused again. “Year

Winter arrived in Iowa. Not decorative winter. Not Christmas-card winter, with fluffy snow sitting politely on pine trees while someone drinks cocoa near a window. Iowa winter. The kind where the wind comes across several hundred miles of frozen farmland, finds your house, and begins looking for weaknesses. It was cold. Unbearably cold. Admiral Byrd cold. Dudley stood at the back door one morning and looked toward the shed. Somewhere out there were projects. There was a green

It was the week between Christmas and New Year’s when nobody was entirely sure what day it was, and cookies had become an acceptable breakfast food. Both kids were home. Doug had brought enough clothes to suggest he was staying until March. Barb was visiting for a couple of days and had to get back to work in Minneapolis. The house was full again, which Dudley liked. He also liked the last week of December because it was time for the annual shareholder meeting. Dudley had pre