Chapter 6

When I came home the next afternoon, one of the tables was missing from the basement.

I stood at the bottom of the stairs for a few seconds, making sure I wasn't seeing things.

The old drafting table my father had left me was gone.

I immediately went upstairs.

"Where's my table?"

Diane was doing her rehabilitation exercises in the living room, with Lauren sitting beside her.

They both looked at me.

"The one in the basement?" Lauren asked.

"Yes."

"The furniture recycling company just took it."

I grabbed my car keys and headed straight for the door.

"Claire," Diane called after me. "That table was already very old."

I didn't stop.

The recycling truck hadn't made it out of the neighborhood yet.

I followed it for two blocks and finally managed to stop the driver at a red light.

Ten minutes later, the table was back in my garage.

Except now there was a fresh scratch on one corner.

My father had used that table for more than twenty years.

After he died, I refinished the surface myself.

When we moved into this house eight years ago, it was the first piece of furniture I put in my studio.

I went back into the living room.

"Who told them to take it?"

Diane looked slightly uncomfortable.

"I just thought the basement was too crowded. Lauren said they were already coming by today to pick things up."

"That was mine."

"I didn't know it meant that much to you."

"I was trying to help."

The front door opened just then, and Adam walked in.

Lauren had obviously called him, because the first thing he said was, "Mom didn't know about the table."

I looked at him.

"But you knew my father left that table to me. You knew it was important to me."

"I did, but I didn't know they were going to get rid of it."

"Just like you didn't know they were planning to redecorate my home?"

"That's not the same thing."

"Of course it is."

For the first time, I didn't keep my voice down.

"You cleared out my studio and dumped my things in the basement. You moved your mother into my studio and let Lauren move in. Now they've started deciding what gets to stay and what gets thrown away."

"But you got the table back."

"So because I got it back, nothing happened?"

Adam didn't answer.

Diane stood up with the help of her walker.

"Claire, I'll pay to have the table repaired."

"I don't need you to pay for it."

"Then what exactly do you want?"

"I want to know when the two of you are going back to your own homes."

Diane's expression changed.

Adam immediately said, "Claire."

"If any of you had shown me any respect in this house, I wouldn't have to do this!"

I looked at Diane.

"Diane, isn't your house still empty? Lauren can stay there with you and help take care of you."

She avoided my eyes.

Adam took hold of my hand.

"Mom's been dealing with the house recently."

"What does that mean?"

"She's getting ready to rent it out."

For a moment, I thought I had heard him wrong.

"When was that decided?"

"It hasn't officially been rented yet."

"When did you find out?"

"Last week."

"Where is she going to live after she rents it out?"

"Claire, we haven't decided yet."

"Then why is she renting it out first?"

"It really isn't safe for her to live there alone."

"I asked where she's going to live."

Everyone stayed silent.

I knew they were waiting for me to give in.

I turned and went upstairs.

By the time Adam followed me into the bedroom, I had already put my suitcase on the bed.

"What are you doing?"

"Packing."

"Claire, don't do this."

I opened the closet.

"We can fix everything you've brought up. This time, I'll listen to you, okay? Don't leave just because you're angry."

Adam reached out and took the two pieces of clothing I had just put on the bed.

I put them back.

"I've already tried talking to you. Many times."

Diane appeared in the doorway.

"Adam, give her some space."

Adam ignored her.

"Claire, don't go."

Diane frowned.

"Adam, she's angry right now. Let her calm down. She'll come back."

I zipped up my suitcase.

Adam followed me all the way downstairs.

I loaded my work materials, documents, and my father's drafting table into the car.

He stood beside the car door.

"At least tell me where you're going."

Diane's voice suddenly came from inside the house.

"Adam? I can't get up."

He looked back at me and hesitated for only a few seconds.

"Wait for me."

He ran back inside.

I started the car.

I didn't answer any of his calls or messages that night.

The next day, he called again.

This time, I answered.

"Claire, I just got a notification about a home appraisal appointment. Did you schedule that?"

I stood by the window of the hotel room where I was staying.

"Because if your mother and sister are both going to live there long-term, you'll have to buy out my half."