again ten minutes later.
This time, Mom was on speaker.
“You’re punishing us because I was angry?” she demanded.
“No. I’m listening to you.”
Mom scoffed. “Don’t be dramatic.”
“You told me to leave and never come back.”
“That doesn’t mean you stop your responsibilities.”
I almost laughed.
There it was.
Not love.
Responsibilities.
Dad finally said, “We just need time. Two or three months.”
I opened the spreadsheet I had maintained for years.
Mortgage payments.
Taxes.
Insurance.
Repairs.
Family loans that were never repaid.
“You’ve had six years.”
Silence.
