I stood up, picked up my empty mug, and walked to the sink. I washed it, dried it, and put it away.
“You have a cellular data plan. I suggest you use a hot spot. Or, as I mentioned, contact an internet provider today. They can usually install a new line within a week.”
“A week?” Sarah shouted. “I can’t wait a week.”
“That sounds like a scheduling problem.”
I wiped down the counter.
“But it is not my problem.”
Nathan stepped between us, holding his hands up.
“Okay, let’s all calm down. Mom, just give her the password for today, and we’ll figure out the rest later. We’re a family, remember?”
I looked at my son. He had always taken the path of least resistance. Whenever Sarah pushed, he yielded.
“Last night, in front of a dozen people, your wife explicitly stated I was not family. You sat there and ate your dinner.”
Nathan looked down at the floor, suddenly very interested in the tile pattern.
Sarah scoffed.
“Fine. If you’re going to be petty, I’ll just go to a coffee shop. Come on, Nathan.”
She stormed upstairs.
Nathan lingered in the kitchen for a moment.
“You’re taking this too far, Mom. It was one comment.”
“It was the final comment,” I corrected him. “After two years of disrespect, enjoy your day at work.”
I grabbed my purse and car keys. I had errands to run.
When I returned a few hours later, the house was empty. They had left for the day.
I walked into the garage to put away my garden supplies. My car hadn’t been parked in here for over a year.
Sarah’s stationary bike, weight benches, and endless boxes of seasonal decorations took up the entire two-car space.
That was the next boundary I needed to address.