Chapter 3

I took out my phone and photographed the calendar pages.

Patrick reached toward the camera. “Why are you doing that?”

“So tomorrow you can’t tell me I remembered it wrong.”

He pulled his hand back. “You need sleep.”

“Cancel Sunday’s move.”

“Mom is already prepared.”

“She said at the funeral that she never asked to move in.”

“She just lost Dad. She doesn’t know what she needs.”

“So you decided for her too?”

Patrick tossed his bottle toward the recycling bin. It struck the rim and rolled across the floor.

“I’m taking care of my mother.”

“You put the work of caring for her under my name.”

I pointed to the calendar and gave him my terms.

Evelyn would stay in her own home for now. Patrick, Elaine, and Susan could take turns staying with her. If they believed she could not live alone, they could share the cost of outside help.

She would not move into our house unless everyone agreed.

Patrick stared at me. “You want a family meeting on the day we buried Dad?”

“You’re the one moving her on Sunday.”

“Someone has to make decisions.”

“Then the people doing the work can make them.”

“My trip starts Monday.”

“Cancel it.”

“I have a job, Rachel.”

He put weight behind every word.

For six years, I had canceled client meetings, dental appointments, and the one weekend I planned with friends. When Frank developed a fever, Patrick had been at a conference in Chicago. When Frank fell, Elaine had taken her children to the beach. Susan was always waiting for a better weekend to visit.

Their lives had continued.

Mine had become the open space on everyone else’s calendar.

I called Evelyn.

Patrick stepped closer. “Don’t bother her tonight.”

I put the call on speaker.

Evelyn answered, her voice tired. “Rachel? Is something wrong?”

“I want to confirm Sunday’s plan. Have you packed?”

I heard a cupboard close.

“Not yet. I agreed because Patrick said you wanted me there. I planned to stay home until after Frank’s memorial.”

Patrick leaned toward the phone, his voice softening. “Mom, you’re exhausted. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“You’re the one who announced the move tonight,” she replied. “I don’t want you fighting because of me, and I won’t move into a home where I wasn’t invited.”

“Rachel wants you there. She’s upset.”

I muted the call. “Stop speaking for me.”

“Do you have to make her feel like a burden?”

“The person who lied to her did that.”

I took Evelyn off mute and arranged a call for ten the next morning with all three siblings. She agreed.

When the call ended, Patrick leaned against the counter. “Satisfied? Her husband was buried today, and now you’ve made her feel homeless.”

I looked at the bottle on the floor and left it there.

As long as I stayed in the kitchen arguing, Patrick would treat the argument as a negotiation. Then he would wait for me to give in.

I went upstairs and pulled out a suitcase.

Patrick followed me to the bedroom. “What are you doing?”

“Packing for days.”

“Where are you going?”

I called Denise. A television played behind her when she answered.

“Is your spare room still available?”

She did not ask for an explanation. “How many nights?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then pack for a week. We’ll figure it out when you get here.”

After I hung up, Patrick gripped the doorframe.

“If you leave tonight, everyone will know you abandoned Mom on the day of Dad’s funeral.”

“Tell them the whole story.”

“No one will believe you’re leaving over a calendar.”

“I’m not.”

He watched me close the suitcase.

“Walk out that door, and don’t expect to come back after you’ve calmed down and pretend none of this happened.”

I lifted the suitcase from the bed.

“That’s the first thing we’ve agreed on all day.”