“We can’t afford much.”
“Then you’ll have to decide what you can afford.”
“Could we stay through spring?”
“That’s several months away.”
“I know.”
“I’m not agreeing to an open-ended stay. I need dates. I need my bedroom and living room returned to me now. I need the photographs put back. And I need you both to share the household work while you’re here.”
“I can do that.”
“Sasha has to agree too.”
He nodded. “I’ll talk to her.”
“No. You both need to talk to me.”
He looked down at the mug. “You’re right.”
That afternoon, Sasha came to my room. She carried a notebook and a list of expenses. “Trevor told me you want us to move.”
“I want you to find a place and set a date.”
“We need time. The rent market is difficult.”
“I understand. But this was meant to be temporary.”
“I thought you liked having us here.”
“I like having my son and grandchildren in my life. That doesn’t mean I want to share every room indefinitely.”
She sat at the desk. “I honestly thought you were lonely and that we were helping.”
“I was lonely. You took over the house instead of making room for me in the family.”
Her eyes dropped to the notebook. “I didn’t realize you felt replaced.”
“I told you about the mug. I told you about Gerald’s painting. I told you I wanted the photographs back.”
“You did. I thought you were being sentimental.”
“They were part of my life.”
“I see that now.”
“Do you?”
“I’m trying to.” She took a breath. “I’m sorry I told you to go upstairs. I wanted the evening arranged my way, and I treated you like an obstacle.”
“Thank you for saying that.”
She looked at the folder. “Are you going to ask us to leave immediately?”
“No. I’m going to speak with a local housing attorney about what a fair, proper timeline looks like. I don’t want to threaten you or act on bad information. I want an agreement we all understand.”
She nodded, though she looked unsettled. “That seems reasonable.”
