He said the house was too big for me. He said my knee had been worse lately. He said Melissa needed space for her online fitness business. He said they thought I might be happier in a smaller place where I would not have so much to maintain.
Every sentence was built around me.
None had included me.
“Did you find an apartment?”
“No.”
“Did you call anyone?”
He hesitated.
I felt my pulse in my throat.
“Daniel.”
“We looked.”
“At what?”
“Senior apartments. Condos. Places closer to Aunt Linda.”
I stared at him.
“You looked for somewhere to put me.”
“Mom, that’s not what I mean.”
“Then use the words you mean.”
He could not.
Melissa appeared in the garage doorway.
She looked at the open box and immediately understood what had happened.
Her expression did not show guilt.
It showed annoyance at Daniel for being there.
“You weren’t supposed to go through those yet,” she said.
I turned toward her.
“Those are my things.”
“They’re boxes.”
“My things in boxes labeled for me to move out.”
Melissa folded her arms.
“You’ve been refusing every practical conversation for two years.”
“I didn’t know we were having one today.”
She said I was being dramatic. She said families made plans. She said I had more house than I needed and they had built routines there. She said Daniel and she were finally getting stable again and that rearranging the space made sense for everyone.
