“Good morning to you too.”
“Mom just got a call from the community center. They canceled every reservation for the rest of the year.”
“I canceled my payment authorization.”
“Your payment?”
“Yes.”
“What are you talking about?”
Lily looked up from her backpack. I pointed toward the living room, and she carried her coloring book out of earshot.
“I have paid for every monthly family gathering at that community center for three years.”
Melissa laughed once, sharply.
“No, you haven’t. Mom pays for it.”
“No. Mom books it. I pay for it.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It makes perfect sense. She wanted the credit, and I didn’t care who got the credit as long as the family had somewhere to gather.”
“You’re lying.”
“Call Julian.”
There was silence on the other end.
Then Melissa’s voice dropped.
“How much?”
“Almost six thousand dollars.”
“For parties?”
“For family gatherings.”
“And you never told anyone?”
“Mom asked for help when the monthly events started. I agreed to cover the room temporarily. She decided she liked everyone believing she was the generous one.”
“So you’re punishing all of us over one comment?”
“One comment?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, Melissa. Explain it.”
She sighed dramatically.
“Mom lost her temper.”
“She mocked a five-year-old’s medical condition. She called Lily an attention seeker. She denied her a piece of cake she could not even eat.”
“The cake thing was unnecessary.”
“The cake thing was cruel.”
“Fine. It was cruel. But canceling every family event is extreme.”
“I didn’t cancel your family events. I stopped paying for them. You are all free to continue gathering.”
“At the new rate, the room costs almost four hundred dollars with the deposit.”
“Then split it.”
“You know Eric won’t pay.”
“That sounds like a problem for Eric.”
“You’re being vindictive.”
“I’m being unavailable.”
She did not know what to say to that.
I ended the call and drove Lily to school.
Her teacher, Mrs. Colson, met us near the classroom door. She noticed immediately that Lily was quieter than usual.
“Everything okay?”
Lily stared at her shoes.
“We had a bad birthday party.”
Mrs. Colson crouched to her level.
“I’m sorry. Would you like to help me organize the art supplies before morning meeting?”
Lily nodded.
As she walked into the classroom, Mrs. Colson looked at me.
“Do I need to know anything?”
“Her grandmother said some awful things about her feeding tube.”
Mrs. Colson’s mouth tightened.
“I’ll keep an eye on her.”
“Thank you.”
I returned to my car and found seven missed calls.
Four from Melissa.
Two from Eric.
One from Dad.
Eric called again before I could start the engine.
“You need to fix this,” he said.
“What exactly do I need to fix?”
“Mom is losing her mind about the community center.”
“She can book it with her own card.”
“That’s not the only thing. She got some kind of bank notification.”
I waited.
“What did you do with the bank, Claire?”
“I stopped paying the mortgage.”
The silence was complete.
Finally, he said, “Whose mortgage?”
“Mom and Dad’s.”
“That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
“They pay their mortgage.”
“No, Eric. I pay their mortgage.”
He made a sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh.
“That’s impossible.”
“I have made every payment for five years.”
“Two thousand dollars a month?”
“Two thousand two hundred and forty.”
“Why?”
“Because they were going to lose the house.”
“I knew they had trouble after Dad’s surgery, but Mom said she fixed it.”
“She did. She called me.”
“And you just paid it?”
“I agreed to help temporarily.”
“For five years?”
“Yes.”
Eric’s voice rose.
“Do you understand what you’ve done? They could lose the house.”
“They have a mortgage payment due. They have not lost anything.”
“Dad’s retired.”
“Mom is healthy enough to work.”
“She hasn’t worked in twelve years.”
“That was her choice.”
“You can afford it.”
I gripped the steering wheel.
“You don’t know what I can afford.”