I answered him.
I gave the monthly amount.
Then the number of months.
His eyes moved to Rachel.
“You told me your mom helped occasionally.”
“She did help occasionally.
It just became more regular.”
I removed another statement.
“Your car insurance,” I said.
Mark stared at the paper.
“What about it?”
“I’ve been paying Rachel’s premium.”
He looked genuinely confused.
“Since when?”
I told him.
Rachel stepped between us as if her body could physically stop the numbers.
“Why are we doing this on the driveway at six in the morning?”
“Because you asked me to leave,” I said.
Mark’s head turned toward her.
“You asked her to leave?”
Rachel exhaled sharply.
“We talked about needing space.”
“We talked about eventually getting the guest room back.”
“Exactly.”
“You told her to leave now?”
She hesitated.
I supplied the missing detail.
“She suggested I stay in the garage until I found somewhere else.”
Mark looked at her as though he had misheard me.
“The garage?”
“Temporarily,” Rachel said.
“Rachel, it’s October.”
“It’s attached to the house.”
The absurdity of that defense seemed to reach even her after she said it.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Across the street, a sprinkler clicked on.
I thought about my old apartment in Westerville.
My sunny kitchen window.
My basil plant in the cracked blue pot.
The blue chair Thomas used to complain about.
I had given up that quiet little life because my daughter had said she needed me.
I had never intended to present that decision as a debt she owed forever.
But I had expected one thing.
Dignity.
Mark came down the driveway and stopped a few feet from my car.
“Margaret, are there more payments?”
Rachel said, “This is ridiculous.”
I ignored her.
“Groceries.
The emergency card.
Some of the twins’ expenses when daycare requested extras.”
“How much?”
I had already calculated it.
Not because I planned to demand repayment.
I had calculated it because, once Rachel began calling me a dependent, I needed to know whether I was losing my memory or whether she was losing the truth.
I gave him the total.
