I knew what answer he wanted.
Some moment.
Some influence.
Jennifer.
His business.
Grief after Robert.
Something external.
But I thought about all the times I had protected him from consequences.
The calls.
The checks.
The rescue plans.
“I helped.”
He looked at me.
I continued before he could argue.
“I loved you by solving things.”
“That doesn’t make this your fault.”
“No.”
I smiled sadly.
“But it made this easy.”
We sat there together.
No absolution.
No promises.
Just two adults finally discussing the cost of a pattern both had participated in differently.
Before he left, Michael hugged me.
It lasted longer than usual.
At the door he said, “You’re really going to Canada?”
“In October.”
“Alone?”
“With Linda.”
He smiled.
“Dad always wanted to do that.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
This time when he said it, I believed him.
—
The house sold in April.
Not at a loss.
That mattered.
After the mortgage and selling costs, Michael and Jennifer still walked away with enough for a down payment on a smaller home.
They chose not to buy immediately.
