She argued. I ended the call.
“I’ll handle it.”
Then I started a message telling Laura I’d taken back the key.
I read it twice and deleted it.
She’d already told me how her evening had gone. She didn’t need to reassure me that I’d done one thing right.
***
My brother, Marcus, called the following evening.
I started a message
“According to Mom, Laura’s abandoned you, you snatched her spare key out of her hand, and you’re drowning in filth without your wife to care for you.”
I groaned.
“That’s what I thought. Come to dinner Saturday. I understand what she’s like, Dan. You could use someone in your corner.”
“Will Mom be there?”
“You’re drowning in filth.”
“Yes. But it’s my house.”
I almost refused.
Then I imagined Mom telling the same story to all my aunts, who would pass it along to my cousins.
I’d let Mom speak for both of us long enough.
