I looked at Jessica again.
“Can we talk?” I asked.
She released a long breath, as though I had arrived specifically to create a problem for her.
“I honestly didn’t think you would make it home,” she said. “You’re always deployed somewhere.”
“I told you I was coming.”
“The house sits empty most of the year,” she replied. “Ryan’s family needed somewhere to stay.”
Her voice was quieter than his, but the message was the same.
Because I was gone so often, they had begun treating my property as though it belonged to whoever happened to be present.
“You could have asked,” I said.
Ryan stepped in front of Jessica before she could answer.
“She didn’t need to. We’re already here.”
Behind him, one of the children bumped into the side of my coffee table and knocked a stack of magazines onto the floor. An adult called the child’s name but did not pick them up.
