He tried to recover.
“Mom thought it would be awkward.”
“For whom?”
Another pause.
“Me.”
I nodded slowly even though he couldn’t see me.
“At least you’re finally telling the truth.”
“Madison—”
“No.
You were embarrassed that I bought a house, so four adults decided the solution was to punish me for buying one.”
“Nobody punished you.”
“You left me waiting at a table for five.”
He had no answer.
Then, unbelievably, he went back to the room.
“So you’re really saying no?”
“Yes.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“You have a whole empty bedroom.”
“And you have two parents who promised you housing they didn’t own.”
He cursed under his breath.
I ended the call.
The next week was ugly in quieter ways.
Mom sent messages about family unity.
Dad sent one saying he was disappointed in the person I’d become.
Kevin sent nothing after I told him no, but Amber did.
Her message was short.
Madison, I didn’t know your parents hadn’t asked you.
Kevin made it sound settled.
I’m sorry.
I read it twice.
Then I replied with three words.
Thank you, Amber.
That mattered because it confirmed what I already suspected.
Kevin hadn’t thought he was requesting anything.
He thought he was moving in.
Three days later, Dad showed up at my house.
I saw him through the front window before he rang the bell.
He looked older than he had at Christmas, shoulders hunched, one hand shoved into his jacket pocket.
I opened the door but didn’t step aside.
His eyes flicked past me into the hallway.
“So you’re not going to invite me in?”
“You skipped the invitation you had.”
His mouth tightened.
Then he looked down.
“Kevin found somewhere.”
I waited.
“Amber’s sister has a basement apartment.
They’ll stay there for a while.”
“Good.”
“They’ll have to pay something.”
“Yes.
That’s usually how housing works.”
He winced.
For once, I didn’t soften the sentence for him.
He looked past me again at the oak floor, the staircase, the framed print I had finally hung beside the doorway.
