“I remember. You drove over.”
“I sat on her couch until four. You and Sophie were asleep. I never once told her my husband needed me home.”
And I knew exactly how to make her regret it.
“I know.”
“So why don’t you ever tell her no?”
He took a second.
“Because she says she gave up twenty years for me.”
“And you feel guilty.”
“Every single time.”
“So why don’t you ever tell her no?”
“My mom gave up thirty years for me. Nobody keeps a tally of those.”
“You never have to choose between her and me. You know that, right?”
“I’m not choosing. I’m going to make your mother hear herself.”
“How?”
“I’m signing her up for something.”
“Signing her up for what?”
“I’m signing her up for something.”
“You’ll see. Just back me up when she blows.”
“When. Not if.”