I didn’t argue.
I knew finding housing was difficult, especially after losing an income.
But I also knew that thousands of families made those decisions without ordering elderly relatives to surrender their homes.
Michael’s temporary job helped.
He and Vanessa eventually found a two-bedroom apartment within a reasonable commute of Noah’s school.
It was smaller than their previous home, but clean and well maintained.
They signed a lease together.
On moving day, Noah carried his favorite stuffed dinosaur downstairs and placed it in the car.
Then he ran back inside.
“Grandma!”
I was standing in the kitchen, packing the last of the wedding china.
He wrapped his arms around me.
“Will you still make beef stew when we visit?”
I kissed his forehead.
“Of course.”
“With the bread?”
“With the bread.”
He considered that.
“Can Tilly come to our apartment?”
“That depends on your building’s rules.”
He looked disappointed.
“Then I’ll come here.”
I smiled.
“Not for much longer, sweetheart. But I’ll invite you to my new home.”
He nodded and hurried outside.
Vanessa appeared in the doorway a few minutes later.
The moving truck was nearly full.
She glanced at the boxes stacked beside the dining table.
“You’re really selling everything.”
“Not everything. Just the house.”
