I didn’t raise my voice.
I simply breathed in the quiet mountaire.
“Vanessa, you kicked me out of your house and called me a stinking old woman. Why would I pay a monthly fee to maintain a relationship with someone who treats me like garbage?”
“Because he’s your son,” she snapped defensively.
“And he is a grown man capable of paying his own bills. Good night, Vanessa.”
I hung up and immediately blocked her phone number.
I didn’t block Jared. He was still my son.
But I was entirely done engaging with her blatant disrespect.
The next morning, I woke up feeling lighter than I had in months.
I walked out to the greenhouse Thomas had secretly built in the backyard. It was fully stocked with rich soil, seeds, and highquality gardening tools.
I spent the day planting tomatoes, fresh herbs, and root vegetables, getting my hands dirty, and clearing my mind.
I was just washing up at the outdoor sink when I heard the distinct crunch of tires on gravel.
I dried my hands on a towel and walked around to the front.
Jared’s sleek silver sedan was parked near my porch.
Jared slammed his car door, his face flushed red with frustration. He marched up to the wooden porch, looking completely out of place in his tailored city suit against the rugged mountain backdrop.
“We need to talk, Mom,” he demanded, stepping aggressively onto the deck.
I didn’t invite him inside.
I leaned comfortably against the porch railing.
“We’re talking right now, Jared. What is it?”
“You need to sell this cabin.”
He crossed his arms, trying to look authoritative.
“Vanessa ran the numbers. The property taxes on the penthouse are due in 2 months. We can’t cover them. If you sell this place, you can move into a small apartment down near us and give us the cash to keep Miami.”
I looked at my son, truly looking at him for the first time in years.
I saw a man who had who had never been told no a day in his adult life.