“Fine.
We’ll buy our own food.
Happy?”
“That would be a start.”
She blinked.
I think she expected me to retreat the moment she became angry.
That had been the pattern for months.
Brooke would push.
Ryan would become uncomfortable.
I would decide preserving peace mattered more than proving a point.
But the peace had only existed for them.
For me, it had become a series of small humiliations inside my own home.
Brooke pointed at the folder.
“And what’s that supposed to be?”
I placed my hand on it.
“A reminder.”
“Of what?”
“Whose house this is.”
The room went still again.
The folder contained the deed and other records connected to the property.
I didn’t need to wave the pages around or force them to read anything.
The important fact was simple, and everybody in the room already knew it.
The house was mine.
Not Ryan’s.
Not Brooke’s.
Mine.
I had allowed them to stay there temporarily because their new build wasn’t ready.
Somewhere along the way, they had begun behaving as though temporary meant indefinite and generosity meant permission.
Brooke laughed again, but this time it sounded forced.
“Nobody said the house wasn’t yours.”
“Yesterday you told me how to use the upstairs.”
“I made a suggestion.”
“You told me my furniture was depressing.”
“That’s an opinion.”
“You told me to spend money upgrading the electrical because you wanted to work at my dining table.”
“Because the power went out.”
“You told me I had plenty in the bank.”
That landed differently.
Ryan looked at Brooke.
She looked away.
I continued before either of them could interrupt.
“And tonight, when I asked two working adults to contribute to the extra cost of living here, you called it extortion.”
Ryan stood up.
“Mom, this is getting way out of proportion.”
“Sit down, Ryan.”
He stared at me.
I had not spoken loudly.
That was what made him sit.
“I’m not interested in fighting,” I said.
“I’m interested in correcting an arrangement that stopped being fair months ago.”
Brooke shook her head.
“We told you why we’re saving.
Every penny we put toward your bills is another delay on our house.”
“And every penny I spend supporting you is money leaving my account.
Why should your savings matter more than mine?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it.
