For the next two weeks, we spoke cautiously. He called twice without mentioning money. Once he asked about Arthur. Once he brought over a box of old family photographs he had found in storage.
I began to think we might be building something new.
Then my granddaughter called me on a Sunday evening.
She sounded worried.
“Grandma, do you still love Dad?”
I sat very still.
“Of course I do. Why?”
She hesitated.
“He said if you loved us, you wouldn’t make us leave our house.”
Everything in me went cold.
I did not question her further. I changed the subject, told her I loved her, and stayed on the phone until she was laughing about something her friend had done at school.
Then I called Wesley.
“Did you tell her that?”
He tried to explain before answering.
I stopped him.
“Did you tell your daughter that if I loved you, I would pay to keep you in that townhouse?”
A long pause.
“I was desperate.”
“That is a yes.”
“Mom—”
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