I was grateful.
I was tired.
Now he suddenly started showing up to every Sunday dinner, watching Gene.
Sitting in Ray’s old spot at the table.
Not in the recliner.
Even Kyle knew better than that.
One evening, he cornered me in the kitchen.
“Mom, you’ve never seen this man’s house? Maybe he’s hiding another woman.”
“Gene isn’t like that.”
“Mama, wake up! He’s after Dad’s insurance money!”
He opened my banking app right there at the dinner table.
He turned the phone toward Gene.
“You see that number? That’s what my father left her. That’s what you’re after.”
Gene didn’t look at the phone.
He looked at Kyle.
“Son, I didn’t ask to see that.”
“Kyle, put that phone away,” I said.
He didn’t.
I saw the balance before he pocketed it.
It was lower than I’d thought.
I told myself I’d misread it.
Two days later, my daughter Rachel called.
