But every time I got close to sending it, I found a reason not to.
Leo needed something. David had a stressful quarter. Sarah had cut back her hours. Christmas was coming. Then tax season.
There was always a reason to wait.
That night, there wasn’t.
I opened the document and read it carefully. Monthly rent: $1,450. Start date: sixty days from then. Utilities and routine maintenance would become their responsibility.
I attached the lease to an email.
Then I replied to David.
“You’re right. We do need boundaries. I’ve sent you a lease for $1,450 a month starting in 60 days. Utilities and maintenance will now be your responsibility.”
My thumb hovered over the screen.
Then I tapped send.
Twenty-three minutes later, the phone rang.
David.
I let it ring three times.
“Hello?”
“Mom, what is this?”
His voice had changed completely. The confidence in his text was gone.
“It’s a lease.”
“I know it’s a lease. Why are you sending us a lease?”
“Because you were right. The current arrangement has no boundaries. This gives us some.”
I heard movement in the background, then Sarah’s voice.
“Caitlyn, this is ridiculous.”
They had me on speakerphone.
“You know we can’t afford fourteen hundred dollars a month,” she said.
“It’s fourteen hundred fifty.”
“Oh, that makes it better?”
“What you can afford is something you and David need to work out.”
Sarah gave a humorless laugh. “We’re saving for a new SUV.”
That sentence did more for my resolve than any argument could have.
They could not afford rent at half the market rate, but they were saving for a new SUV.
“Then you have sixty days to decide what fits your budget,” I said. “If you don’t want the lease, find an apartment you can afford.”
David cut in. “You’re doing this because I asked for privacy.”
“No. I’m doing this because you called a house I own your home in a way that made it clear you’ve forgotten the arrangement.”
“It is our home.”