I told him I’d been reading and volunteering twice a month at a neighborhood literacy program.
Thalia gave a small laugh.
“Volunteering. Must be nice to have that much free time.”
I looked at her.
“It’s been rewarding.”
She began talking about a new dining table she’d ordered, the expense of maintaining the garden, and her plans to replace the furniture in the guest bedrooms.
I listened.
Then Darren cleared his throat.
“Mom, there’s something we need to discuss.”
I put down my glass.
“Of course.”
He looked at Thalia.
She immediately took over.
“Eileene, Darren and I have been talking about your situation.”
“My situation?”
“Your finances.”
I glanced at my son.
“What about them?”
Thalia gestured toward my clothes.
“Let’s not pretend. You don’t own a car. You live in a tiny apartment. You’re always wearing things that look as though they came from a charity shop.”
“They usually do.”
She frowned.
“That’s not something to be proud of.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
Darren shifted in his chair.
“Mom, Thalia is concerned.”
“About what, exactly?”
Thalia leaned forward.
“About how long we’re expected to take care of you.”
I stared at her.
