“They grew up there.”
“So did half their friends.”
“Margaret.”
I looked away.
Gertrude reached across the table.
“I’m not saying don’t sell it. I’m asking whether selling the house and changing the family are the same decision.”
I hated when people I respected asked sensible questions.
“They left me standing on the sidewalk.”
“I know.”
“They took the keys.”
“I know.”
“They took the food.”
“I definitely know. I could smell those meatballs from my driveway.”
That almost made me laugh again.
Almost.
Gertrude squeezed my hand.
“You have every right to be hurt. You also have every right to stop making things easy for people who don’t consider you. But don’t make Robert’s house carry the whole burden of teaching that lesson.”
I stared at our joined hands.
“Then what do I do?”
“Start by not rescuing anybody from the consequences of what they chose this morning.”
