“We thought some of the proceeds could help us get established.”
“The proceeds from a sale you didn’t know about?”
Susan’s eyes flicked toward him, sharp with warning.
Betty felt something cold settle beneath her ribs. Until then, she had believed their cruelty came from convenience: the better bedroom, the larger closet, the relief of having someone else cook. Now Jake looked like a man standing beside an uncovered hole.
“Tell me what you promised.”
He swallowed.
“I said the house would eventually be mine.”
Susan interrupted. “Ours.”
Betty kept looking at Jake.
“And?”
He spoke so quietly that she almost missed it.
“I said you’d agreed we could use it to help buy another place.”
The clock above the kitchen doorway clicked.
“I never agreed to that.”
“I know.”
Two words. No misunderstanding left inside them.
Betty sat in the rocking chair because her knees had begun to shake. She hated that Susan could see it, but she would not fall to preserve anyone’s impression of her strength.
“How long?”
Jake pressed his lips together.
“How long have you been spending a house I still lived in?”
“Since last winter.”
Betty remembered that winter. She had made soup when Susan caught the flu. Jake had complained about his car payment. She had quietly paid the heating bill and bought a thicker blanket for her own bed.
Susan folded her arms.
“You always said everything you had was for Jake.”
“When he was seven and needed shoes.”
“You can’t expect us to have understood that differently.”
“I expected you to understand I was still alive.”
Jake flinched. Susan did not.
A car door closed outside. Susan looked toward the window, and the color left her face.
Betty heard two voices on the porch, then the bell.
“They came early,” Susan said.
She remained still long enough that Jake went to answer it.
Her father stood behind a wheeled suitcase, one hand gripping a cane. Her mother carried a covered baking dish. Both wore the strained, hopeful expressions of people trying not to arrive as a burden.
“Traffic was better than we expected,” her mother said.
Then she saw Betty’s face.
“Have we come at a bad time?”
Susan moved quickly between them.
“There’s been a misunderstanding about the arrangements.”
Her father glanced toward the stairs.
“We can wait while Betty finishes packing. There’s no rush.”
