Karen knew all of this.
Or I’d thought she did.
“Michael loved having people up there,” she said.
“He loved inviting people up there.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“No, Karen. You’re talking as though his kindness gave you permanent permission.”
She crossed her arms.
“I thought you needed something to bring you out of yourself.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“You’ve been alone so much since he passed. You hardly entertain anymore. I thought seeing everyone enjoying the terrace again might remind you of happier times.”
I felt a painful mixture of anger and disbelief.
“You thought bringing 25 strangers onto my roof against my wishes would help me?”
“When you put it like that, it sounds awful.”
“Because it was awful.”
Karen looked down and muttered, “I didn’t mean it that way.”
I thought about the warning she’d ignored and the guests she’d misled.
“You don’t get to decide what I need just because you don’t like the answer I gave you.”
