Eight Thousand Gallons of Milk and a Small Blue Ledger

walked away.

Gregory turned, his eyes immediately dropping to the blue ledger under my arm. He adjusted his watch strap with a quick, nervous motion.

“I am in the middle of checking the route sheets, Mother,” Gregory said, his voice rapid and impatient. “We have three late trucks from the northern route.”

“We have a payment of fifteen thousand dollars continue reading …