“Yes.”
I looked at them calmly.
“You have thirty days to find somewhere else to live.”
“This is our home!” Meadow shouted. “Jud lives here!”
“This was my home for twenty-two years before you arrived.”
She stared at me in disbelief.
“You can’t just throw us out!”
“You spent five years telling me I was in the way. Consider this my solution.”
I told them I would stay at a downtown hotel while my affairs were finalized.
As I headed upstairs to pack, Blaine followed me.
“Mom, please. We can fix this. We’ll change.”
I stopped at the staircase.
Part of me wanted to turn around.
But I knew if I looked at him, I would see the little boy whose scraped knees I had bandaged and whose college applications I had proofread after working double shifts.
That little boy wasn’t the man who laughed while his wife called his mother a servant.
So I kept facing forward.
“I’m seventy years old, Blaine. I don’t have enough years left to wait for you to learn how to love me properly.”
Then I went upstairs.
One suitcase.
That was all it took to remove my belongings from a home where I had lived for decades.
Strangely, carrying it out felt lighter than staying.
