My Dad's Offer to Help Me Make Money

Mike met me at the door. My dad's on the phone and he said to wait on the back porch, Mike said as he opened the door. The old wooden floor creaked as I stepped across the threshold of the aging house. Sitting on the couch were two women, both a little older than my mom. Across from the women sat a man in workman's clothes. He wore khaki slacks and a khaki shirt,. neatly pressed but without starch and polished work boots. They smiled as Mike and I walked past them toward the back porch.