There it was.
Out loud. In my kitchen. At ten-seventeen in the morning.
“What you bought,” I said.
Diane turned and looked at me for the first time since she came through the door.
“Don’t you take that tone. I kept a roof over your children’s heads while you were off at that drugstore every night.”
“I was off at that drugstore every night,” I said, “so there’d be a roof.”
“Nineteen payments!”
“Fifty-two thousand dollars,” I said. “That’s what I had in my savings last night. From every extra shift I worked while you stood at my sink. I have twelve thousand now. You have your money back, Diane. Every cent. With a thank-you on it.”
“I don’t want it!”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want what I was promised!”
She was shaking. Really shaking. Her pearl necklace was trembling against her collarbone.
“Mom,” Greg said slowly. “Mom, what’s going on? This is—you’re scaring me. Why does it matter so much? You’ve got the condo. You’ve got—”
