Graham came home at ten. He poured a drink. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen as if he were waiting for me to apologize.
I did not.
"You made Mom cry," he said.
"Did I? Or did you tell her I made her cry?"
"Emma. This is insane. It's three hundred dollars."
"Three hundred and forty. Every month. For three years. That's over twelve thousand dollars. I can show you the receipts. Folded twice. In my wallet." I did not raise my voice. "I would have kept paying it for the rest of her life. I would have been glad. The part I will not do is pay for Patricia's boutique body while your mother hunts for magnesium she already had."
He sat down. He looked tired, which was a look he used when he wanted me to take care of him.
"Patricia's going through a hard time. The shop isn't doing well.
